I love the smell of water in the air. It’s so fresh, and it makes the air feel soft as I take a deep breath. That scent adds some sort of fluffy tail to the lasts wisps as they trickle in, tickling the back of my throat, making my lips curl towards the sky. It’s … Continue reading Every day is a cloudy day when you can’t even be bothered to open your blinds.
I don’t like dancing. I have nothing against dancing as a means of self-expression, only that I don’t like expressing myself through dance. I never wanted to go to any school dances, but I had a girlfriend who wanted to go, and I wanted to fit in, and so I found myself at a number … Continue reading “You remind me of apples during lunchtime, afternoons spent outside, and better days…you made those days the best days.”
I truly hate how people use the term chaos to define things, anything at all. Chaos is wild and unfocused, being family to disaster in general. “Real love is always chaotic.” No, just...no. Not even remotely close to being an accurate statement. I see love as being fairly subjective, different for every person. Even so, … Continue reading “Real love is always chaotic….The greater the love, the greater the chaos. It’s a given and that’s the secret.” – Jonathan Carroll
I have a lot of things I wish I had said, but even more things I wish I hadn’t. I’m stuck in this strange realm between biting my tongue and using it to flick poison in your general direction. I’m caught in the middle, and I keep settling things with a coin flip, leaving it … Continue reading “I craved a home for my heart, and in my rush to find it, I ignored the tiny pieces I was leaving behind with every step I took.”
I want fortune to listen As I struggle with my speech, To flinch as the words reveal Scar after scar. My words resonate regret, And as all moisture Evaporates in my throat, Every note is coated In varying shades Of a screeching rust.
I want karma to see Every mistake I carved In my attempt To reap forgiveness. Are these lines Repentance for the past Or a reflection of me And the tomorrow I’ll never escape?
I want fate to touch My crowning breath, To blister in its fever As it traces crimson Around naked necks. It’s a vibrant sensation, Echoing the shade of dusk Throughout my bones Until they are reduced To Georgia Red Clay.
I want serendipity to smell As my anguish ignites, Its carnivorous flames Feasting on my doubt. The breeze is perfumed With a sinister smog, And even though it hurts, This smoke is the only air; And so I am left choking On the ugly scent Of a burning heart..
I want destiny to taste The last sliver of air Netted in my lungs. It’s Nitrogen imbued With a wink of vinegar, And a gasp of sour carbon, Made all the more potent By a throat varnished In wood turpentine.
I just want to read books for a weekend, without worrying about work or the world. I want to take away my sense of responsibility, for myself and every other self within a 10,000 mile radius. I want to spend hours browsing at bookstores, moving my fingers along exposed spines. Between all the paper and … Continue reading I’ve made more friends with ideas set in ink than warm bodies, and that’s perfectly fine with me.
That little light from your lampshade 