and in it she stood
awash with crescented chrysanthemums
with honeysuckle skin and wisteria eyelashes
and with it i said
if nights were like coins
id spend them all on you
and twinkle them between my fingers
shaking them up and admiring
the glint and value of
the night and its stars
and the coppery, nickel-y dusk
that stains my hand with
the bouquet of metal and flowers
from nights and coins
alongside only you
with a perfume of
and pressing summer heat
and my whispers and promises
that tell you
that if nights were like coins
id spend them all on you
Sometimes I want to be with the crowd laughing
Sometimes I'm afraid of how the laughs sound
Sometimes I flat out hate laughing
Sometimes I'm a giggling mess
I've been told I glare when I'm not trying to
I've been told I can look like a block of ice
I've been told I have a sick sense of humor
I've been told I should sleep more
It seems straight forward but it isn't at all. Lot of hidden stuff here.
Have lead me
To face the same answer
I'm not ready
What have you become?
I haven't coped
How was I so blind
I'm still in shock
You were the biggest lie
For whats become
I had to face
Knowing what's unjust
Am not feeling
Tore my head
I hate You
I hate you too
I hate You for becoming
A violent monster
Shedding me to pieces
One by one
The one insane
Who deserved it
I pity You
For a creature like You
Is the epitome of the destruction of beauty
Much like the Ungoliant
I also hate
For taking away something
I held so dear
It was a lie
Took the little home
I once thought I had
Slowly but surely
Threw me out
Too caught up in you're own guilt
To even look at me
Too weak to break free
I don't pity you anymore
Yet it has become
Two sides of the same coin
I'll edit this later, right now it's for my peace of mind...
deep below the wishing well,
in the tomb of wishful pennies,
live a team of diligent elves,
working day and night.
they grab each cast away coin as it falls,
clutching them to their grimy chests in hunger.
they box them all up
and melt them down in flat sheets by the dozen
in factory fashion
and they build from them tools and weapons;
whatever it is that they need.
their business is balanced on the backs of believers
who pour out their hearts to deaf coins
in scrunched eyes and in whispers
and a flick of their wrists to the darkness below.
perhaps if they knew the fate of their coins,
the industrial dungeon just storeys below
they might have spent their wishes on a shooting star instead,
destined to shatter through space.
Like coins thrown into fountains- they're just gonna sink.
And shooting stars- they're going to explode.
Birthday candles are going to be blown out.
So why should wishes survive?
God's presence is most conspicuous by his absence;
God's absence is most manifest by his presence.
The absence of God and the presence of God
are flip sides of the same coin ~
with God's presence always facing you
in your time of need.
If you'd like to read more, please search for them under: What is God?'