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In Memory of Michael Serpent

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Nov. 24th, 2005 @ 12:08 pm
Darkness. I see darkness, everywhere I turn. It’s sucking me in. Swallows my whole being then spits me out again and still, even now there’s only darkness. And it just starts all over again.

I can’t feel anymore. Every day is as grey and dark as the next one, just as pointless. I walk through every single day the same way now. I only see the darkness. I’m no longer cold and nothing hurts anymore. There are no tears, no pain. I don’t even wish to die anymore.

Sometimes I find myself checking my pulse, just to make sure I’m still alive. Sometimes I have to remind myself to breathe. My chest is heavy. Like there’s something on my chest, pushing down on it, never letting go. It’s nothing like when your head rested on it. That was a much welcomed weight. It was warm, and I could always feel your slow, warm breath on my skin and I didn’t need any covers to warm me at night because you were there, your breath was there to make me warm. Even back then, there was a weight on my chest, but it wasn’t like this at all. That weight was one that could make me feel like I was floating at the same time. Like my body didn’t weigh anything at all and like it didn’t matter if it did because all that mattered was that you were there. You and your sweet breath on my hungry skin.

I stayed up all night just listening to you breathe, feeling you against me, absorbing you. It felt as though you were this endless being, and there wasn’t enough of you to take in.

I always felt warm back then. Even during those horrible times when I couldn’t be close to you. I could still feel your warm breath on my skin. I didn’t shower in the morning because I was afraid of washing you away. It felt like I would have only become dirty if I washed away the traces that you had left on my body.

For a long time, people thought I was crazy. They were right. You woke something in me. Something I never knew was slumbering inside me. Suddenly I couldn’t remember simple things. I called Ron “Hermione” and was surprised when he told me, that wasn’t his name. You were on my mind all the time. I saw your face whenever I closed my eyes. You were looking at me through those beautiful, liquid silver eyes of yours, decorated by pale eyelashes. Your eyes were laughing softly at me and just that made me sweat. The image of your face was floating around everywhere. I saw you in every little thing. In the way a raindrop glittered in the sunshine on a leaf. In the soft, silver light of the moon. In every song that I heard, I heard your soul singing to me.

One night we were sitting on the grass by the lake. You were leaning against me. Your soft hair was tickling my nose and I took deep breaths and filled my lungs with your sweet scent. I tried to absorb your every touch. The way your back warmed my front. I tried to fill myself, my every cell with you but the more I took in, the more I craved and I had to put my arms around you and press you into me more. Pressing my lips against your throat, I could feel your pulse and my hand found that spot on your chest and beneath it I could feel your heart beat. As your heartbeat quickened and you whispered my name, I knew it was beating there for me.

I walk along empty streets, not knowing, not caring about what I’m still doing here. I can’t feel the rain against my skin, nor the biting coldness of the wind. I still see your face in front of me all the time. It’s blurry as thought this constant rain and all this time has washed it away. Your eyes still shine at me though.

I will never be able to forget the first time without you. The pain of having lost you came in thick waves and went on forever and never stopped, it just increased more and more. Sometimes I woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, tears and my own blood and I had no idea where it all came from. There were scars all over my body but I didn’t feel any pain from them because a different kind of pain was controlling my whole body.

One time when I woke up, my hands were tied to my sides and when I screamed someone came in and explained that I was a threat to myself and that I had to remain in those bonds until I stopped hurting myself in my sleep.

I don’t know when that happened but after a while they let me go. By then the pain slowly disappeared. I felt nothing anymore. Slowly all the colours disappeared. Everything was replaced by this all-consuming darkness.

On rare occasions when I manage to fall asleep, I can still see fragments of those sweet memories we used to share. I can see the wind in your soft hair. Or your face blossom as a soft smile creeps onto your face slowly. Sometimes, just for a second I can even feel your skin under my palms, timeless beauty and endless warmth seeping into my fingertips.

When I wake up I no longer remember these things but your presence is still here. Your ghost is here and I can feel you linger in the room. Those times, it hits me with full force that you will never come back. I have lost you for ever and your breath will never warm me again. And just for a second I can even feel the empty coldness you’ve left me with, all the way into my bones. Those times I know that the pain is still here and will never leave me. It has become my companion through life and I can no longer feel it, but it’s still there.

Those times I wish I could still feel your breath on my skin and I freeze more.


I wrote this a while back and since much of my work was inspired by Michael I thought it only fair to post this here. Thank you, Michael for touching my life the way you did.

~ unmei3 (Dellie)
Current Mood: blankblank

My Harry/Draco. To one who wove words with love and soul, thank you. Nov. 18th, 2005 @ 10:44 pm
You and I

You are my anger and my pain,
My fear and my jealousy.
Fighting you I lose myself,
Become more than I am and less.
You cement the darkness inside me,
Your light falling—into shadow.


Flying with you, taunting you and fighting you, there’s nothing like it in the world. With you I am fire, burning ice; all that I am at your feet.

Oh gods, I want to own you, take your body and your soul: make you mine. I am nothing without you, a pile of tinder dry wood with no hint of spark. Consume me as you always do but utterly, obliterate me as if I was nothing… make me cease to be. Hate me as I love you and love me, as I hate you: for you do, as I do… as we do

You are my mirror, my other self. Fuck me ‘til I no longer know the difference.

I want your hands in my hair: clenched tight, dragging my head back for your pleasure. Bite my throat, lick my neck; savor me as your Last Supper. Undress me, strip me, rape me of my swathed illusion, my façade of clothed flesh: my skin at your mercy, every move your command. Unshroud my body, this marble self; take me as your own and paint my white with streaks of red, rake your nails down this living canvas; mark me, brand me, do as you were meant: rend me as only you can. Take me in your mouth as sacred Host, worship me; run your tongue up my length, make me hard. I want to slide by your lips like liqueur; drink me as some living wine. Thrust in me like a sword its sheath; to the hilt, buried deep; rough and hard, smooth and sweet. I want to feel you inside me, like a song, like a prayer: so glorious and full—finally complete.

Make me writhe at your touch, break me. Make me scream, forget myself; my name nothing—I am replete.


Such a wanton dream


Harry—bound of hidden darkness: you are my phantom shadow, my liquid dream. I want to own you, love you, learn your flesh as my own. Your skin new milk, fresh poured; such deceptive glove of innocence, shroud of shifting flesh, silken skin. Yet… your scar—a mystery. Hair of ink, stained darkness: thick as night, mussed as sin.

Hells, I want to run my hands through your spun-dark mess, feel the cool-warm strands slip through my fingers like forgotten dreams. I want to learn your skull with gentle fingers, ease your pain and sooth your mind; feel your body relax with my touch. Light my darkness as I sooth yours.

Harry—breathe my name, my first name; not in anger, not in hate. A whisper—as in a dream I wait.

Gods, I want to hear you moan your pleasure; see you close your eyes and shiver, my fingers trailing down your naked spine from your tender nape; stroking flesh and nerves therein. I want to possess you, make you burn: arch your back in surrendered agony, crying out in damned ecstasy; sinuous play of muscles ‘neath my searching hands: flex, contract, supple as water: all ‘neath warm gold skin.

Your body, so beautiful: compact, strong: a living, endless surprise.

Such eyes… of changing green: hidden forests, fresh new leaves; light with laughter, dark with anger, but what of passion? I wish I knew… Please, see me not as me, but myself. I am not all you think you see.

On the bed you lie, sprawled on your stomach before me: languid, like a figure poured: lax stillness—alive. Arms lying loose, muscles relaxed, hands splayed among mussed sheets, fingers stroking cool cotton, clenching as if to anchor your soul.

Tender skinned, soft as butter, hard as steel… though warm. A Rodin, you are a precious thing: graceful, lithe, awkward; how can I want you so? Kneeling behind you between your spread legs, our knees touch and you shift so I am snug between them. Your skin, not quite pale as my own: creamy, a living warmed meringue. A dusting of fine dark hairs on strong calves and thighs, sweeping up to the swell of muscled buttocks; ankles supple and feet rough with hard use.

Like a map, I want to know you.

Upright, with both hands I reach behind me, grasping your feet and massaging deeply, your moan a restful response. Unknotting weary tightness and strained tendons, my nails skim the length of your feet, sliding to weary ankles, lightly stroking the bones. Leaving off to knead the length of corded calves: massaging deeply, loosening slowly; reaching your knees, such strained hinges, a knowing caress and teasing tickle and you tighten your legs around my own. Your thighs, with Quidditch so very strong, my fingers moving deep and thorough, working out tension and stress, teasing the back and kneading the front, trailing with gentle strokes across and up the satin skin of your inner thighs. Your muscles ripple in response and your legs loosen…widen, hips thrusting down, pushing your erection into the sheets beneath you as you seek relief from my teasing. Your arms tense, fisting the sheets within your grasp as your breathing quickens, sweat slicking your skin.

I lunge foreword, hands grasping your biceps, sliding off to land among the sheets by your armpits, carrying my weight as I crouch above you. Nose buried in the silken mess of your hair I inhale your scent, soft and woodsy; like freshly cut grass after a cool spring rain—soothing… so soothing

Shifting backwards I run my tongue down your spine, laving dimples nestled at the small of your back, kissing open mouthed the down dusted flesh therein: tongue lingering, soothing your fire—stoking my own. My hands move to caress your shoulders, leaving off to trail as living feathers down your shoulder blades, tracing your ribs and griping your hips, fingers lightly stroking your tummy. Your moans grow louder as a shudder wracks your body, goosebumps rippling across your naked flesh.

Gods! I need your warmth around me, silken glide of velvet depths a sheath forbidden yet sacred. Leaving off my pleasured search I summon a vial of scented oil, slicking my hands for better things…

Leaning down with fingertips grazing your hips, I run my tongue along one muscled buttock, finally sliding between to claim your heat, silken darkness: tight muscles, hidden depths. You jerk in response to a teasing lick, pulling your right leg up near your chest, hips wide; a lazy invitation as you push your face into the mussed sheets, a needy whine escaping your lips. In acquiesce to your request my hands glide between your thighs, the left to slick your entrance, the right trailing up your angled thigh to grasp your hip; squeezing hard, gripping firm, then letting go

Moan your want; take me in! All of me—

Liquid sheath of a cherished blade: rippling, supple—ready. Sliding in I take you, touch your soul and watch your face as you arch up against me: shoulders brushing my chest, our fingers twined, arms braced firm. Your head thrown back against my neck, strands of hair tickling my ear as a bead of sweat drips off to hang for a precious moment against my burning skin. It slides down to rest against the chain around my neck, but a gentle glimmer among woven icy gold. The locket hanging from it brushes against your spine, its precious cold an icy shock to your heated flesh as a gasp escapes your lips and my name falls as if from a breath of wind; a whisper, as if in prayer.



“I love you—”

Time stretched, suspended, as we move together, thrusting deep and pushing back, breathing heavy and ragged; a dance never-ending. Sweat drips off searing flesh, hands loosening, gliding over supple skin and nails scoring trails of fire. You writhe in ecstasy beneath me, our bodies twined as one and I feel at peace, whole: as never else—forever. Such sated pained release; we fall together into oblivion, tangled and still joined as one as our breathing slows into the night.

All is… as it should be, from the first. Before— everything…


In longing I weaken, uncertain.
In hate I despise and am sure.
To love without fear but a dream--

Current Mood: pensivepensive
Current Music: Greatest Hits 2000: Enigma

H/D Oct. 28th, 2005 @ 10:30 pm
And though I am torn asunder
by the loss of so many and the gain of so few

I shall always cherish this wonder
this wonder, which has delivered me to you

Our fate has not been kind
and yet true love will fight her off

And we will stand together

in the garden
before the tree of life
I shall take your hand and you mine
And we blaze a trail
of fire


The Green and The Grey

Dawn and Dusk

Delivered and Undead

Our love is that of Ying and Yang


I write this with a somber heart at having just now learned of the loss of such great talent.

I hope not to compare, but to parallel.

God be with you, wherever you may be.

Matthew Jack Hallin

Oct. 29th, 2005 @ 12:51 am
For Michael, who inspired me to write fanfiction.

He stared at the man in front of him.
Stared without seeing.
Lost in his memories.
The first time that they had met in Madame Malkins.
The declining of an offered friendship.
Their first fight.
Their first kiss.
His betrayal.
Green eyes hardened and he lifted his wand. The pale man simply stood in front of him and made no effort to reach for his own wand.
"You know that this has to be done." He told him as he raised his wand. The pale man nodded. "You killed hundreds in his name. You betrayed me for him." The pale man simply nodded, not moving, not moving his eyes from his.
"I hated you. I hated you for letting me fall in love with you." Tears glistened in his green eyes. Tears that he had promised himself that he would not shed.
"I love you."
"I love you too Harry."
"Avada Kedavra."
Green light spilled from his wand and Draco's body fell lifeless to the ground.
It was done.
He was dead.
So why was he the one that felt dead?

for michael... Oct. 6th, 2005 @ 06:49 am
HP/DM Slash.

Only for this moment
By miss sheree

Only for this moment, just now
It won’t happen again.
After this last time, I swear,
I will see it end.

But just this once, I will
Be blind.
To all your faults as you
Do with mine.

Like a moth to the flame
Entranced by the fire.
I come to you with the
Burning of desire.

Green meets silver.
Dark clashes with light.
And for once, just this once
Two rivals unite.

The world is lost and seems
Compared to the longing and
Driving want.

I kiss you once, you kiss me back
And then swear never more
But one kiss turns to two and
They quickly become four.

Again I renew my oath
As your mouth moves over mine
That it is only this one moment
Just this one last time.

And as you pull away and I
Look at shattered jade
All the memories come back
They just wouldn’t fade.

For I have promised the same thing
Just the day before
To only give you this one moment
and not a single more

Yet this is clearly a lie for here
They were again
Both promising only one moment
But never letting that moment end.

This poem is dedicated to Michael Serpent who loved HPDM so much. Here’s to never letting good moments end.
Current Mood: crushedcrushed
Current Music: sound of silence
Other entries
» Staring out the window
This was something I wrote after my best friend died. It was a way for me to vent when my wall and my strength. I now dedicate this to all of those who have ever lost the one they loved most in this world, for ones who have lost their world and are struggling day to day to slowly rebuild it.

Staring out the window

I sit here, staring out the window, the sun shining on my face, its light and heat warming me
and I think, it's not fair
I'm hear, with the sun, and the warmth, and your not
All you have now is the dark and the cold and nothingness
I keep waiting, hoping this is a dream, that I'll wake up soon and you'll be standing there
That shit eating grin on your face
and you'll laugh at me and tell me I'm being idiotic
But your not, and you won't
And everytime I think about it my heart breaks a little more

You left, you left without me
And now my heart breaks a little more everyday
The darkness falls in around me a little more everyday
I die slowly a little more everyday

You were my friend, I loved you
You were my strength, my secret keeper
You were there when I needed to vent, rant, rave, bitch, scream, you were even there when I needed to cry
Always stronger then me, always a silent, comforting presence
giving me space when I needed it, giving me your strength when I needed it

I need you now
I need your strength, and your silence, and most of all I need your friendship and your love
But I don't have it
All I have now is a hard ground and gravestone
Oh don't get me wrong I have memories, but all they do is haunt me
They haunt me with past plans
They haunt me with future plans
They haunt me with words and actions said and done

So I sit here, staring out the window, the shining down on my face
And I wonder
"Did you ever feel the same? Can you see me now? Do you know what you've done to me?"

I want to hate you, want to hate you so much
But my heart won't allow it
I've screamed and yelled and cried
And damned you till I'm blue in the face
I've cried myself to sleep everynight since that night
And still I can't hate you
All I can do is get up the following morning, watch as my heart breaks a little further
Watch as the darkness falls in a little further
Watch as I die a little further inside
And listen as my heart cries out "I miss you"

» Phoenix Flames
Phoenix Flames
Lost Samurai

The very essence of life
Is anchored deep inside the living
An ever flowing potential of creation
Life stream-Inexhaustible nectar of the gods

Divine essence of the earth
Like a spring breeze rushing trough my veins
Mortal sparks ignites from buried ashes
You die...just to make another life

Living fire-Phoenix Flames all around me
The bird of life is rising
A rebirth for all living beings
Feel the bliss of his majestic wings

To die is to live
Reconstruction from destruction
In order to perpetuate the tireless cycle of life
A young seed is germinating inside me
From this life to the next

The realm of the living is so vast
Millions of possibilities entwined
The tree of life reach is infinite
Feel the warmth of immortality
» Ohne Dich (Without You)
I hope you all don't mind if I post this. It's a song by Rammstein called "Ohne Dich". It means "without you".

Ich werde in die Tannen gehen
Dahlin wo ich sie zuletzt gesehen
Doch der Abend wirft ein Tuch aufs Land
und auf die Wege hinterm Waldesrand
Und der Wald er steht so schwarz und leer
Weh mir, oh weh
Und die Vögel singen nicht mehr
I'm going to go into the fir trees
There where I last saw her
But the evening is throwing a cloth upon the land
and upon the ways behind the edge of the forest
And the forest it is so black and empty
Woe is me, oh woe
And the birds sing no more

Ohne dich kann ich nicht sein
Ohne dich
Mit dir bin ich auch allein
Ohne dich
Ohne dich zähl ich die Stunden ohne dich
Mit dir stehen die Sekunden
Lohnen nicht
Without you I cannot be
Without you
With you I am alone too
Without you
Without you I count the hours without you
With you the seconds stand still
They aren't worth it

Auf den Ästen in den Gräben
ist es nun still und ohne Leben
Und das Atmen fällt mir ach so schwer
Weh mir, oh weh
Und die Vögel singen nicht mehr
On the branches in the ditches
it's not silent and without life
And breathing becomes oh so hard for me
Woe is me, oh woe
And the birds sing no more

Ohne dich kann ich nicht sein
Ohne dich
Mit dir bin ich auch allein
Ohne dich
Ohne dich zähl ich die Stunden ohne dich
Mit dir stehen die Sekunden
Lohnen nicht ohne dich
Without you I cannot be
Without you
With you I am alone too
Without you
Without you I count the hours without you
With you the seconds stand still
They aren't worth it without you

Michael... Rest in peace.

» (No Subject)
I just can't stop crying.

I just read lashajayne's story Finer Than Spring, and she wrote so beautifully... about Harry and Draco sharing their distant dream that was never to come true... and suddenly it's all coming back to me, the last conversation I ever had with him...

...of going to some island somewhere and sitting by the ocean, watching the waves come in... kissing... and then they will have their home, their manor, with the candles burning everywhere so that it won't be dark anymore... and then... then... there will be no war... no evil wizards to kill, no expectations... no running, fighting or dying... Nothing except the rushing sounds of the tide.

I... I always wanted to share that dream with Michael. And he told me... He told me there would come a time when there would be no more pain... no more sickness and no more tears... the sun would shine brilliantly every day, and the moon would paint our faces with its silvery glow every night... He promised me, fucking promised me that he would be there with me, that he would be sharing every single moment with me, would be sharing every joke and every tear of happiness with me. And...

And he said I would never have to feel cold again, never that horrible cold again... and I would never have to be strong again for anyone, because, when the time came, I would not know weakness. He whispered a secret to me... He whispered, that in the end, there would only exist peace and calm. Just... peace and calm. So simple. And he said that one day, many years from now, he would come to me and take my hand, take me to the dance with the gentle wind that would always blow there, in the perfect world of our dreams. He said he would come to me, and until that, he promised he would always hold my hand. He promised to hold my hand always. Every day on my journey there.

-cries silently-


Just so you know...

I will never let your hand go.

» Into the West
I think the lyrics of the song say all there is to say.

Lay down,
your sweet and weary head.
Night is falling.
You have come to journey’s end.

Sleep now, dream
of ones who came before.
They are calling,
from across the distant shore.

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see.
All of your fears will pass away.
Safe in my arms,
you're only sleeping.

What can you see,
on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea,
a pale moon rises.
The ships have come,
to carry you home.

And all will turn,
to silver glass.
A light on the water.
All souls pass.

Hope fades,
Into the world of night.
Through shadows falling,
Out of memory and time.

Don't say,
We have come now to the end.
White shores are calling.
You and I will meet again.
And you’ll be here in my arms,
Just sleeping.

What can you see,
on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea,
a pale moon rises.
The ships have come,
to carry you home.

And all will turn,
to silver glass.
A light on the water.
Grey ships pass
Into the west.
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