The Ghost Factoryi. Sunrise, and I'm watching Time falling past my window like morning rain. Past my memory, past my outstretched fingers, past the anatomies of stars laced across the window pane is a street, deserted. The scene is grey and flickering, grained like an old movie, and there's a silence spread thick, coated on the roof of my mouth like peanut butter. I'm waiting, and the world holds its breath.The Ghost Factory
Gradually, the colour begins to drain away, and the sky washes to violet, sepia, ash; crinkled like elephant skin. Around me the silence starts to hum and blur, like a television, disconnected. I am a jumble of abstract words. I am osci
Spuni. Living is nice when you’re spun like a kite…Spun
Somewhere beyond the dawn, where opaline skies bite down on the tops of autumn forests, we are flying. Strapped to diamond wings, we spiral round and around, cutting our twin silhouettes into the blue. Down below, amidst the kaleidoscope of burning branches, someone must be pulling the strings, but this does not concern us. Up here, temporarily, the air gushing into our lungs and hitting the base of our spines tastes of freedom. Arms outstretched, eyes wide, our bone crosses kiss the clouds.
Holding hands, our smiles are seamless: we are locked in harmon
Tulipsi. The day after death, the flowers appeared. A line of them; three crimson tulips standing proud and serene in the corner of my room, each surrounded by a little frayed halo of darkness where the carpet had been split. Fragile sapling tongues bejewelled with crowns dipped in blood. Nobody watched me before: now I am watched. There is something conspiratorial about their existence, as if they have been sent to observe me, and whisper secrets behind my back. They stare like the blank eyed statues of angels you find in graveyards; immutable, wholly absorbed in their vigil. I don’t like to take my eyes off them for long inTulips
when you wish you had-n't-stringing your eyes with garlands of stars i wish to impeach you, maybe impregnate you with a will to breathewhen you wish you had-n't-
(in deep)
but what are you but an incoming breath to me? an unapologetic zephyr gracing my inner vineyards
ruffling the leaves with whispers
(i understand it
isn't so collapsible, and i'm forgetting i forget you)
but when the winds turn
you're a harlot, ruining this year's yield of self (importance and confidence)
and i'm understandably drinking
up
Blog!
Excited
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the most delicious one~ ♥
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"What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me"
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the most delicious one~ ♥
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"What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me"
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'Beauty will save the world'
--Fyodor Dostoevsky
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the most delicious one~ ♥
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'Beauty will save the world'
--Fyodor Dostoevsky
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~ You just have to look! Come on, click the avatar!
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