when we fall apart,
right here on this crooked sidewalk,
i'll be there to pick up what's left of you.
i won't walk away
with you following my footprints
down this broken alley
like so many times before.
but i'll watch try to catch yourself,
i'll watch you with sad eyes.
milky, sandy, sad eyes.
i needed something real,
something i can hold on to,
something i can touch.
you're not here.
and i'm not afraid anymore
i'm breaking out of my ironclad prison cell,
my screams echoing.
if we could dance all day,
on tipped toes, on drifting breezes, on my heart,
i would make you mine.
like sandy rolling dunes,
softly swaying through deserts,
we would dance.
fingers wrapping around lacey curls,
my eyelashes coaxing you to join me,
we intertwine.
we touch, but barely.
i know i have you hooked.
we dance.
it's a delicate dance,
i'm careful to not upset this fragile existence.
bring me close to you.
i'm afraid, i'm not ready.
this dance is no more a carefully precise waltz,
but a tango.
i stumble, losing my grip.
you pull me in,
where i'm safe, where you love me.
we dance.
Playing With Pavements by goldenseptember, literature
Literature
Playing With Pavements
these foundations keep crumbling underneath me,
the noise of the destruction filling this empty silence.
there's no one to save me from falling.
i needed you.
we can't piece back together this cracking pavement,
we can't pretend that you cared.
we can't partake anymore in your lies.
i won't play the part anymore.
i will wait until all of you is gone before i can piece this back together,
again.
only decemeber will remember you my love
and here it's cold and raining.
my face is of innocence,
small and meek;
i am the young deer in the dark woods.
but my black bear has awoken.
worn from his restless sleep.
beneath the blossoming orange tree
the young deer collects falling diamonds
as the bear nears
with a devilish grin.
he shows her the beauty of the pine tree
and the green emeralds
that caresses her fragile eyes.
for the first time, she is envious.
in the midst of night
the deer rests peacefully,
a silver laced halo across her head.
the bear creeps stealthy to were she lay
and pounces
sinking his razor sharp teeth into her frail bones.
the young deer lies dead
as the black bear ho
the strings that kept us together
are broken.
they were bland and colorless,
but there, nevertheless.
and i only stayed for her
but now shes broken too.
you broke her,
with your serrated heart.
and it brings me to tears to see her attempt
to try.
but you,
with your black heart, you,
just keep pulling on the strings
sawing off the pieces one,
by one,
by one.
and i want to rip them out of your hands
and make you see
that its not about you anymore.
the leaves dont change where we live.
and you, zebra, dont change your stripes,
or spots,
or scales.
we watch you march proudly around the gre
my nails scrape across the back of your neck.
im struggling to take my last breaths.
my head collides with the mirror;
its like the one that i used to look into
when i tried to convince myself i was good enough for you.
i can see my petrified reflection in the pieces that scatter
across this abandoned house.
no one can hear my muffled screams.
you lean down and whisper things into my ear
this is the way it has to end. just know, ive always loved you.
my eyes widen at the sight of my own blood smeared across these walls.
i give in to the fear.
my golden curls are crushed by your unbearable weight.
when we fall apart,
right here on this crooked sidewalk,
i'll be there to pick up what's left of you.
i won't walk away
with you following my footprints
down this broken alley
like so many times before.
but i'll watch try to catch yourself,
i'll watch you with sad eyes.
milky, sandy, sad eyes.
i needed something real,
something i can hold on to,
something i can touch.
you're not here.
and i'm not afraid anymore
i'm breaking out of my ironclad prison cell,
my screams echoing.
if we could dance all day,
on tipped toes, on drifting breezes, on my heart,
i would make you mine.
like sandy rolling dunes,
softly swaying through deserts,
we would dance.
fingers wrapping around lacey curls,
my eyelashes coaxing you to join me,
we intertwine.
we touch, but barely.
i know i have you hooked.
we dance.
it's a delicate dance,
i'm careful to not upset this fragile existence.
bring me close to you.
i'm afraid, i'm not ready.
this dance is no more a carefully precise waltz,
but a tango.
i stumble, losing my grip.
you pull me in,
where i'm safe, where you love me.
we dance.
Playing With Pavements by goldenseptember, literature
Literature
Playing With Pavements
these foundations keep crumbling underneath me,
the noise of the destruction filling this empty silence.
there's no one to save me from falling.
i needed you.
we can't piece back together this cracking pavement,
we can't pretend that you cared.
we can't partake anymore in your lies.
i won't play the part anymore.
i will wait until all of you is gone before i can piece this back together,
again.
only decemeber will remember you my love
and here it's cold and raining.
my nails scrape across the back of your neck.
im struggling to take my last breaths.
my head collides with the mirror;
its like the one that i used to look into
when i tried to convince myself i was good enough for you.
i can see my petrified reflection in the pieces that scatter
across this abandoned house.
no one can hear my muffled screams.
you lean down and whisper things into my ear
this is the way it has to end. just know, ive always loved you.
my eyes widen at the sight of my own blood smeared across these walls.
i give in to the fear.
my golden curls are crushed by your unbearable weight.
the strings that kept us together
are broken.
they were bland and colorless,
but there, nevertheless.
and i only stayed for her
but now shes broken too.
you broke her,
with your serrated heart.
and it brings me to tears to see her attempt
to try.
but you,
with your black heart, you,
just keep pulling on the strings
sawing off the pieces one,
by one,
by one.
and i want to rip them out of your hands
and make you see
that its not about you anymore.
the leaves dont change where we live.
and you, zebra, dont change your stripes,
or spots,
or scales.
we watch you march proudly around the gre
This feeling is something entirely new to me.
When I think of you,
my heart beat speeds up as if I'm climbing a mountain.
Sometimes I think I'd rather look at you
than the view atop Schoodic.
You make me feel like a child again,
and it feels weird to think of you as mine,
because I wanted you
before I realized that daisies and lupines go together.
Do you feel the same way?
I'm terrified that you might not,
that I might hurt you,
that this might not work out.
And through all the what-if's,
I see your face, your smile, your childish nature,
and I remember that I wouldn't hurt you,
couldn't even if I wanted to.
For the first tim
to entrench and deceive. by miss-momentum, literature
Literature
to entrench and deceive.
I was misguided.
sunset watchtowers,
sea-green, a hungry wolf's
tapetum in the nighttime
we were always a curious incident;
we were always surreal;
we were never us.
I held the gentle kiss of pollination,
a sort of messenger on the breeze;
but you implanted yourself within
the telephone lines,
a raspy whisper at midnight and
the twilight inside a pigeonhole of truth.
there was an ugly tale
between your eyes and your smile;
I suppose the story went that they
never really met.
and I wished the same of us.
without you, I was a mended heart,
a tearless storm,
a promising rebellion.
without you, I was everything
and y
disremembering tomorrow. by miss-momentum, literature
Literature
disremembering tomorrow.
I found something outstanding -
or rather, something standing out
and I can't lock my fingers around it
because it caged me first.
I think it was the lucidity
or the pictures or the memories,
cloaked in navy and embraced
by azure hues of languor -
a cerulean clasp that held me to
heaven and challenged me to turn away.
I found a clumsy forgetfulness in which I
overlooked hiding smiles and remembered
that I cannot be overly precocious and cannot
treat this like a battle between fate and outcome.
but I am not empty.
I am not empty, yet.
how beautiful the end of the world can be,
with its bright lights and colors.
how beautiful the end can be,
with noises that trumpet like ancient melodies of
disguised demise
is there anyone to read these masks?
the sky overhead is streaked thunderhead-gray,
ink smudged over wheat-colored paper at the borders
of well-loved stories;
well-loved, well-cloaked,
well-hidden in these new thoughts, far-reaching glances
of what it is like to lose all in an age of
always having everything.
there is no one to rebuild this culture.
eagles cry and freedom begs, stumbling
over broken violin strings, weeping
murmurs on the ed
MP3 player of choice: iPod touch :) Shell of choice: turtle. Skin of choice: my own. Favourite cartoon character: Jimmy Neutron, Bugs Bunny, Pepe Le Peu
i remember years ago
someone told me i should take
caution when it comes to love
i did, i did
and you were strong and i was not
my illusion, my mistake
i was careless, i forgot
i did
and now when all is done
there is nothing to say
you have gone and so effortlessly
you have won
you can go ahead tell them
Just gonna stand there
And watch me burn
But that's alright
Because I like
The way it hurts
Just gonna stand there
And hear me cry
But that's alright
Because I love
The way you lie
I love the way you lie