metamorphosis
Nervous6 months of my life left to dust on an overcrowded bookshelf.
I refuse to live under glass. I can't breathe in this box.
once upon a timeI remember rushing through overgrown forest paths. Racing fireflies through sunsets and awkward silences. He didn't understand my love for words or art or beauty. But, like moth to flame, he clung to a dull hope for my need of meaningless human connection; inauthentic and lonely.once upon a time
I remember pulling away from the death-grip he had assumed on my beltloops, bringing me closer, into the sad comfort he embodied. A comfort that always proved contagious. Always proved to leave a space more hollow than before.
I remember pushing coke cans into bonfires with soot covered Chuck Taylor toes. With time, he and I both became accu
WandererI woke screaming, begging for the warmth you'd implanted beneath my labyrinth fingerprints.Wanderer
The yellow flecks in my eyes are not your private constellation, but an anonymous confession, concluded with a forged signature.
I took the liberty of encoding apologies with echoing proclamations of "forever yours:" lost in translation, leaving only the emptiness of my voice.
I cling to the whispers in your breath like life boats in the Atlantic attempting to grasp a foggy beam of light from a phantom lighthouse.
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Shouldn't let you toture me so sweetly...Now I can't let go of this dream...
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Oh why oh why do girls alway cry when you tell them they're past their sell-by?
xoxox
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Myspace:
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<3333thankss (:
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let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
[:
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let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
Sorry I don't really comment anything. I'm more of a lurker...haha.
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you've got a smile like november sunlight,
with nothing underneath.
thank you. <3
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let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
it means a lot.
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Oh bliss! Bliss and heaven! Oh, it was gorgeousness and gorgeousity made flesh. It was like a bird of rarest-spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a spaceship, gravity all nonsense now. As I slooshied, I knew such lovely pictures!
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let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
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you've got a smile like november sunlight,
with nothing underneath.
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