Once upon a time
There was a girl who dared to dream
In the cold, air conditioned room of reality she sat
For hours on end
Suddenly, her rescuer appeared
Golden yarns of sunshine leaked through the windows,
Wrapping themselves around her,
Pulling her away
In the blink of an eye
She was no longer in the place of gloom
But in a magnificent garden
Where flowers of every kind, like her,
Dared to bloom
She tarried there
For hours, days, weeks
Sitting amongst the blossoms
Admiring them and befriending
The other children who would arrive from their own prisons
Each backstory unique,
Some grotesque, some disheartening
But that mattered not
For the children would wrap their fingers
Around each other's cold hands
And begin again
In this new, dreamlike place
Everyone is born
With a balloon attached to a ribbon,
That they hold onto.
This balloon keeps them up high,
Above the dark pool that lingers below them.
But sometimes the ribbon breaks,
And the people go plummeting down.
I have seen people fall into that dark pool,
And they disappear forever, never return.
Lately I have noticed that my ribbon
Seems to be fraying, ageing,
And my hands now riddled with arthritis,
Are unable to cling to this ribbon anymore.
My toes are skimming this darkness now,
It's cold down there, very cold.
I don't know how much longer I can last.
Until I too disappear forever.
There are some cases, when someone's ribbon snaps,
That a person comes to them,
And holds them with their free hand,
Helping them keep afloat too.
I fear I may not be this lucky,
For I have not met the one who will save me,
And maybe I never will.
He stole something from her bed
and, it began messing with her head...
A Greek man came into her home
late at night when she was all alone
A naive girl who had wanted to learn a bit
about the culture of this dimwit
she regretted ever
nearly scrubbing off
her entire skin
and, while her tears ..
like water rained on down
her sobs fell deafly to the ground...
for what seemed like hours, and hours...
while she stood weeping
in her shower.
You know I'm fragile.
Don't state opinions that I don't ask for.
The words hurt more than real pain.
Pain goes away but your words endure.
Burning deep in my core and I live to suffer.
Praying to not wake up in the morning.
Whoever is meant to die early but does not want to
Let me be hero and risk my life for your own.
Let me be hero and I'll save you.
No Lover saith, I love, nor any other
Can judge a perfect Lover;
Hee thinkes that else none can, nor will agree
That any loves but hee;
I cannot say I'lov'd. for who can say
Hee was kill'd yesterday?
Lover withh excesse of heat, more yong than old,
Death kills with too much cold;
Wee dye but once, and who lov'd last did die,
Hee that saith twice, doth lye:
For though hee seeme to move, and stirre a while,
It doth the sense beguile.
Such life is like the light which bideth yet
When the lights life is set,
Or like the heat, which fire in solid matter
Leave behinde, two houres after.
Once I lov's and dy'd; and am now become
Mine Epitaph and Tombe.
Here dead men speake their last, and so do I;
Love-slaine, loe, here I lye.