February 2012
66 posts
1 tag
Poetry set 5/10 (Ever After)
My bed of feathers is torn apart. I am in slumber upon the heap.
Many years ago this day, life was fair and just and true. Love proclaimed the land I held, keeping at bay, all sorrow.
But at his highest, my prince fell ill and grave evil swept the land.
With bleeding heart I fled on foot, screaming to the hills for shelter; but darkness trickles into minds wherever they may hide.
Tumbling with...
7 tags
deadsurfers:
dear god
if you exist, you’ll give me a hot, smart, caring, honest, nice boyfriend within the next week
or i’ll kill myself, go to hell, overthrow Satan, wage a war on Heaven, win, and rule the entire universe
sincerely, a bitter gay boy
Anonymous asked: 10, 12, 14
6 tags
“According to Shakespeare, there was something operating in Nature, perhaps...”
– A Nightmare On Elm Street
4 tags
2 tags
5 tags
miserywhore:
Adele//someone like you (Jonathan...
sadvomit:
i don’t wanna die but just taking a break from existing for a week or two would be really nice
I guess I just need to accept it....
my life is moving on now. So is his. I’m both completely okay with it, and destroyed. How, how does this make sense?
Sad Luck: What happens if you fall in love with a... →
blaqmaus:
Lots of things might happen. That’s the thing about writers. They’re unpredictable. They might bring you eggs in bed for breakfast, or they might all but ignore you for days. They might bring you eggs in bed at three in the morning. Or they might wake you up for sex at three in the morning. Or…
poetry set 4/10 (ramble ramble)
I was in love with what we were; such imperfection.
You are endless poems, alive with imagery. I am merely the scribe.
I could not hope to regain those words. They escape me now.
But in my leafing among the pages I still see you.
5 tags
poetry set 3/10 (Decay)
The scent of this flower which I have plucked pettle by pettle is as rancid flesh.
The horror of the orchid; a faint shadows glow. I hold it to my chest. T’is my only dream.
Poetry set 2/10 (veneer veneer)
Can we be in a picture?
We could link arms
and pretend to be friends.
Snap snap click click.
Can we capture this memory
of a trivial moment.
Let’s lie in this image,
pretend it was fun.
Snap snap click click
why do we smile?
Why do we express lies?
Why play pretend?
Wouldn’t a prettier image
capture a reality?
Beautiful, honest faces;
can we capture this memory?
poetry set 1/10
Our first kiss was like biting into cold peas. The harsh bitter somehow seemed almost sweet. Our first fight was like a nest of needles. Red and soaked, lethal and violent. But the last fight and the last kiss they were different. They were weak. I do not remember the last whisper of your artful lips. I cannot taste cold peas. And my skin feels soft, milky and unmarred. The past is becoming...
damnthatswhatshesaid: