Paper PlanesSometimes it feels as if the world is turning in on itself, and that I too am curling up, folding away, andPaper Planes
learning how to fly. For we were all born from the insides of stars,
spouting words and colourforms and every shade of moth-backed night imaginable. Even me and my stitches.
And to stardust we'll return.
Maybe I'll fade through this filtered sunlight, back to me at five, discovering the world underwater:
the sun split and scattered across the surface; the mouths puckered, full of streams; the skin that flickered a
You'reYou're secret, iridescent like tears; an intricate spiders' web laced tight: a smile, spliced. Fair like the weather.You're
You're my intravenous jigsaw, with labyrinthine eyes sewn shut. My ball-jointed umbra, strung sideways and screaming.
You're oscillating, cinereal you're fractured glass - a moon-skulled reflection; bare and hollow, black-backed like the undersides of stars.
You're mute, blurred at the edges - a bird with feather flutings and broken wings falling headfirst into sun-split
Blue and White: IstigkeitHere I am now, submerged in blue: a wall of colour and nothing else. Here, time is defunct, because now and here is nowhere, and I am little more than abstract thoughts. There's a kind of purity about it, a wholeness; smooth white peace like a softmint, with the sting in the mouth too. There's a sound like the hush of clouds seething between the bones and a floating sensation, like falling asleep underwater. Beneath the heavens, where opaline skies bite down on treetops, I lie open. I am free. Out of the veil of myopia everything seems crystalline and bright; pure as tears. I have come here to empty myself; to erase emotion and reBlue and White: Istigkeit
JewelsShe dripped with rubies, I drowned in emeralds. I'm surprised she isn't blinded by the flashing of my eyes, cat's eyes glowing in the dark with the light of a thousand refracted jealousies. Wine slid past her lips, absynthe poured out of my throat. In the form of words, I am as playful, flirtatious and romantic as can be. My tongue is the little green fairy. But my stomach burns with the acid from the sickly limes that have somehow filled me to the brim with their bitterness.Jewels
Her dress is made from rose petals touched by the hands of princesses, blooming and filling the sun-drenched air with their gorgeous scent.
Mine is m
| I am what I am, but never what I seem. |
Thank you!
Adoration
--
what we choose is never what we really need
*VampireWriters|=PoetryPlease|*Writers-Workshop|=ScribeSanctuary
--
the most delicious one~ ♥
--
what we choose is never what we really need
*VampireWriters|=PoetryPlease|*Writers-Workshop|=ScribeSanctuary
--
the most delicious one~ ♥
--
--
the most delicious one~ ♥
--
"What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me"
--
the most delicious one~ ♥
--
"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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