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of your pieces featured by DLD please note spoems.

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_{Featured by: spoems}

LILITH'S SAVAGE GARDENHe thought me a simple thing,
too easily broken like the ribs of new grass
that glutton themselves on a baptism of
daylight gorgeously golden, but this baptism
he can keep-I will not let it stain my marrow,
and his name too he can take-for I have my own,
I will not let such plain conventionality
cleave to my breast, an aureole of moonshine
encircles my proud peaks, Passion's palpitating
tirade seeps from the pores of my skin,
and I am she who collects the Stars shining
up my spine, enticing the Dark to give up
her secrets to the sweet feminine scent of
my lotus, oh if only he knew that my witcheries
were a gift-not a curse!
He thought me a weak thing,
only meant to glide on my belly beneath him
as he crushed my will with his heel and coveted
my soul, but I was more than that sweetcream
throb between my sister thighs that aroused him
to skewer my trust, I was not so precious that
I couldn't bleed for what angels could only weep,
I was not afraid to gaze at my reflection and
smile my bel

"LILITH'S SAVAGE GARDEN" by Heather-Chrysalis

_{This poem features delicious
tempo and diction.}

_{Suggested by: The Admin of WritersInk}

_{Featured by: betwixtthepages}

You've Endured So Many Storms That You Became OneYou have endured so many storms that you became one.
Your mother was a tsunami.
Her emotions came in waves
and crashed down on you like
“this is all your fault”.
Her high-tide flooded your basement.
There’s water damage in your roots.
She taught you how to swim when you were five years old,
but somehow you’ve been drowning for seventeen years.
You once told me that you hid all the knives in your house
so that the waves wouldn’t carry them away.
Your father was a thunderstorm.
His voice shook your house so much,
I could have almost sworn that you lived by train tracks.
His thought clouds
generated enough electricity to light up your neighborhood.
When his lightning cracked you’d count
“one Mississippi
two Mississippi”
to see how far away his hand was from your face
before the friction in his bones was too much for him to bear.
You have endured so many storms that you became one.
You are an earthquake,
and my heart is your San Andreas Fault

"You've endured so many storms that you became one" by PeppermintPictures

_{From the suggester: Because it's a beautifully 
written poem about personalities and how they have been 
shaped by family. The description and use of natural disasters 
for each is very clever and portrays a lot of raw emotion and chaos.}

_{Suggested by: Nichrysalis}

_{Featured by: hypermagical}

Colchicum Autumnale
There!
Upon a meddle,
that summer wresting
glade and seasons ware;
An Equinox bare as trawl and twilight,
till the bore of my palm is fading nautical to tier,
hours, days, and faring between each finger peeking veer and varied, light to fetch the loom and a vision blued like darkness isolate and new;
fair it eye to find thy gestured gaze and darting pupil.
For Sunday's overcast to delineation and the surfaced face that blackness buried.
Time left to lapse between the fabric slate and glassine window
shade, then still, here shone of their lengthy panes abyssal hue; 
that mirrored expression and crafted gauge what lifts me onward, stare --
droves of faces other than what corners ever they so frequent peer;
Risen than is sunlight meddled flame when a finger so tilted mere; Abruptly goes; than rogue was once a blindly train over those vanilla tropes and trickled breach they engineer like the deafening of ears and the cackling of beams,
Yet delicate to silence like fire succumbed

"Fall of the Leaf" by Fleeting-Epiphany

_{Featured by: SilverInkblot}

slowly, and then all at onceand for once, he slips on his wedding ring, to cure the monotony.  it slides over his knuckle, a perfect fit, and in the morning release of sunlight the silver gleams at him.  it glares, calling him a liar: she is not a whorehouse and you are too broke to own her, you harlot, you.  he buttons up, tucks in his shirt tail, and buckles his belt.  the clinking of metal parts is the only sound in the room besides the dusting of her breathing beside him.  and when he's gone, the only thing he leaves behind are the bruises on her collarbone.
-
you find him because you're lonely, (well, it's actually the opposite.)  he finds you because his wardrobe is black and his shoes are scuffed and he asks you where your castle is.  you're the only princess he sees 'round here.  the rain soaks into his shirt and he curses it, grinning.  and damn girl, you follow him, because you think you see some kinda warmth in his ice blue eyes.
-
it takes you days t

"slowly, and then all at once" by A-Lovely-Anxiety

_{Strong images help this prose poetry short pack a punch.}

_{Featured by: Gingersanps}

There's A Woman In My Soup The world was spinning too fast, and Jim knew that he was going to be thrown off. A flock of porcupines flew by like the winged monkeys of Oz. Colors swirled until they mixed together and everything turned the color of mud. Trees laughed as they were uprooted, freed from their monotonous standing. Someone whispered in his ear… “You’re in the wild, wild west now, baby.” He awoke, breathing hard, behind the wheel of his ancient Pinto. Horns were honking at him as he pulled back into the proper lane. The narcoleptic episodes were becoming more frequent, and he was worried.
 Janice popped a couple of painkillers without water. She was used to it, now, but she couldn’t get used to the pain in her back. It felt like knives twisting into her. The pills always made her sleepy, but there was nothing else she could do to ease the pain. She lay down on the bed and waited for them to kick in. A ‘Scrubs’ re-run was on TV. “Who put the silv

"There's a Woman in My Soup" by Bark

_{The title, which would make no sense, 
is a funny way of putting the story. 
Maybe, it really is 'the beginning of something'.}

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~ The DailyLitDeviations Team ~

_{Prepared by: betwixtthepages}