this is the sound of stars
screaming like fireworks, and
mangled promises spilling
through trainwreck teeth. this
is the sound of lungs filling
with air and girls with brown
eyes and the whisperwhisper
of sheets on skin.
i have never heard a more eloquent silence.
this is not me, this is
the purple-blue of midwest
sunsets and the hope found
between quintessential smiles
and blinding neon lights. this
is the amount of air between
worlds and words and the freckles
on your left shoulder. this is not me.
but i promise you, someday i will be incredible.
you are filled with delicate bones
and inchoate dreams, and maybe
someday you will turn your suppressed
screams into more then just an escape
route. maybe someday you will finally
see your elegant imperfections and
enchanting eyes and you will realize that
you are beautiful.
insomnia...she knows a girl who killed herself simply
because she was alive and a thousand
more who wished they had the courage to
stop her but has never met anyone else
who smiles in their sleep or dances with
blood sucking angels but has never once
been bitten by their parasitic beauty.
and today she whispered to the dandelions
and wore a lost rosary to remind herself
that at least she used to believe in something.
today she kissed another girl's fingertips and
promised the world that the sun would always
stay warm. today she hid from the sunset
among thorns and tangled tree limbs and
decided that maybe it was time to
learn to breathe again.
maelstromThere was a time when he woke up to skies that smelled of burning wood and fraying threads. Those mornings were sewn together from shadows so long that she never had to ask him what he was doing when she found him on the floor, tongue pressed to the glass. She swallowed her words and settled her kneecaps next to his, matching his compressed mouth, haphazard breath staining their view. He never had to explain to her that this was as close as he got to tasting precipitation before the first fall.
Back then, their fingertips always found each other.
One afternoon the sky darkened and the clouds stumbled in on swing rhythm feet. Thunder resonated throughout his bones and he pressed his ear tight to the hardwood floors. The whorls and spirals of aged pine were so much clearer to understand than her downpour messages and drizzle words; they slipped from her tongue almost as if by accident.
What are you doing?
There was the boom snap clap of disappointment snapping his ribc
theme two - lovei.
you crackle with static energy that
shocks the nerves into kineticism
and makes him forget how to move
the tips of his fingers so they meet yours
you are popsicle skies and hazy
mouths that cloud his mind
and his wristwatch so that he loses
track of time when he looks in your eyes
you have molten hands that forge
through hills and valleys of good morning
smiles so that they wrap around his
heart and he melts in your hands
you bring butterflies and foolishness
like they are doggy bags of
necessary emotion and you want to
make sure he is well fed
there is something ringing in my ear
after he stretches out upon the grass
and cannot stop telling me that
your eyelashes whisper "home"
prompt five - circusYou were always the type to spend your birthday, dandelion, and penny-in-the-fountain wishes on a Prince Charming without the high society demands. Your wicks burned fast and loose for fingers to fit between yours; your flame shone brighter in the light of old romance. Your breath was stolen for feather-soft and butterfly kisses; air was always sweeter breathed from another pair of lips. But you kept your knuckles buried in your pockets, empty of change and full of hope.
You never heard of anyone finding destiny in the sunset, but that never stopped you from dreaming of riding into its colors.
You met him somewhere between his unruly curls and your quiet blushes; the way all your words were stained shy and hesitant made his lips smile lopsidedly. The leaves sprinting across the asphalt were not as captivating as the foxtrot of freckles across the bridge of his nose, but they filled in the gaps between all the sentences rushing through your mind and skidding to a halt perched on
Circles.My life is running in
circles, and that scares me
I've noticed that
if I try walking in the light, my
shadow will grow and scare
but if I try going into the
dark, I am scared that no one
will notice me.
I'm not sure which I prefer.
I don't know if I like things
like dream catchers or cameras
because dream catchers only
bring good dreams, and sometimes
I want the wrong person
to love me in my dreams
only hold memories, there's no
future or present, only
Rainbows used to be
beautiful, but now they only
hurt my eyes because
I know they're illusions, but I still
get the urge to run after it, to
find a pot of gold, so I'll
settle for the thunder and lightning
because those are real
and why would I chase
Sometimes, I lock myself
into my room and scream into my head
because if I don't force it, I never
think about things because
you've ruined my mind and
it only sees bad things now
and I naturally avoid it.
I've tried to freeze myself
This is For YouThis is for the boy with the cracks on his hands and a splintering face,
the lovely girl feeling not-so-lovely anymore-
the boy with his hands locked high over his head,
unlock them. Unlock doubt and inhibitions-
For the girl who said THIS IS MY FIRST SCAR.
like she wanted more to come-
For the man who knew that if there ever was a time to seize the day,
that time was here and now and never. That time was her
snow-white blouse against her snow-white skin and her fingers
trickling down his spine-
I see the world through your hands, your fingertips, your pores.
I saw you dancing on the spouting gravel,
entwined in roots and feet and H2O.
You were a defiant stare and an intervention,
you had a silken voice: purling, purging,
stealing lines from famous songs. On tip-toes
and backbone, you stretched and reached and
cried like you had no remorse
-or too much of it.
temptation expectation -collabmeet your
Nervous, of course. Im walking a tightrope,
baby, and Im stuck with two left feet. Im
falling for you faster than gravity can pull me,
but youre stubbornly keeping your balance.
Im starting to think maybe I have to trip you.
Wishing and hoping youll come just a little closer, terrified of movement and breathless with anticipation. Im plummeting and free-falling off a cliff thats miles away; do you have a net to catch me at the bottom? [or you could just catch me in your arms]
The most gorgeous thing Ive seen in a long
time. You have shell-shocked every electron
into standing still for a moment in time. Lets
react as violently as an alkaline and maybe Ill
show you the way my stomach twists itself in
knots over you.
Twisting your hands and biting your lip, twirling your eyes around mine. Ohh, I breathe, you are perfect. You are ten feet tall and impossi