Brianne Calypso's Open Salon Blog

I only just got here...and your all leaving ...

Sun, 24 Jun 2012 10:06:31 -0400

So what happens now ?..

In my brief time here I have come across a few great characters, who I know already I will miss...I have been receiving pms linking to others sites..but I am still confused.. will this place be re-opened somewhere else in a similiar format or is this the end ?

If there is no gathering elsewhere and this really heralds the end of O.S..then it has been a pleasure meeting those of you that I have , even for such a brief time.. and I know there are many I was also bound to meet in the fullness of time had this not happened!

Are there any plans afoot to continue on with this blog or is this really the end?

I never even learned how to embed a Youtube video :(

Love Brianne.

Soul Zipper

Wed, 20 Jun 2012 07:06:46 -0400

She left herself in the field,
In the tall grass and the rain.

... She lay as still as a heartbeat freeze-frame.

Silently she slept with eyes wide open,
Her empty shell staring at the stars,
No sign of conscience,
No sign of home.

Her eye sockets containing no more than a silver radiation,
Softly glowing.
Not looking for desire.

No desire for love anymore.

A wound opened the side of her neck,
Gaping and dark,
Oozing with a brand new emotion,
Too alien for a soul to bare.

Her insides on display,
With all their guilt.
With all her fury that had vacated her,
And left a faint scent behind,
But not enough to hold onto.

She lay exposed to the world

Strawberry Bones

Sun, 20 May 2012 11:05:27 -0400

Moonbeams drift from far away to light up the faces in my bed,
And to cling to my breath as it tumbles in mid-air,
Rolling like the misty ghost of an ocean wave-
Eerily silent and crawling as if time had found love and forgotten itself.

My empty windows gaze without life, fixed on the ceiling,
Irises white and hungry,
Finding names and curses in the textures of the paint,
And finding new ways to imprint you into my memory-
To make sure you stay in my sleep.

My heart beats like a heavy drum,
Pumping blood as thick as mud through my veins,
Becoming hateful,
Violently swirling laces you'd whispered to me like secrets that I'd rather forget.

My stomach crawls when I replay my own delusion-
To think your heart held intent other than a conspiracy,
A plan to drain me.

A plan to kill my glow.

It burns me up inside, down deep,
Where my hummingbird resides and dies slowly in suffocation,
Choking on it's own song.
Blooming blue, purple, indigo and violet clouds,
They seep through my pores and colour me-
So cold.
It burns me up.

You set me on fire from the inside,
Burning inside my bones.
You gave me the flames that burn, tinted with strawberry,
That shine through the cracks in my skeleton-
Through the broken pieces of myself,
Through the aftermath of the quake.
They burn so brightly
,And fill my lungs with your second-hand cigarettes.