artificialsweeteners
My ears hear what others cannot hear; small faraway things people cannot normally see are visible to me. These senses are the fruits of a lifetime of longing, longing to be rescued, to be completed. Just as the skirt needs the wind to billow, I'm not formed by things that are of myself alone. I wear my father's belt tied around my mother's blouse, and shoes which are from my uncle. This is me. Just as a flower does not choose its color, we are not responsible for what we have come to be. Only once you realize this do you become free, and to become adult is to become free. / / - India Stoker
*'His laugh
is the reflection
of my happiness.'
As my tears
are the core
of his grief.'*
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 8:04 AM UTC
*[muh-lif-loo-uh s]
sweetly or smoothly flowing; sweet-sounding:
'You are mellifluous.'*
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 3:53 PM UTC
Humming birds don't come
Around my house anymore
But it is April
So I sit by the window
And look outside in mad hope
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 3:40 PM UTC
*'It is see through, feels like velvet
keep falling through my fingers...
Ghostly figures and I still see the,
the illusion of the show. It is not
real, it never was, always was a
fantasy. It keeps dripping from my
skin, that illusion of life we are in.'*
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 3:35 PM UTC
*'Is it ok if I would say
the words I am thinking about,
they are on the tip of my tongue.
Is it ok to wrap my heart around
the meaning of them.
Will it be poison or relieve?'*
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 3:17 PM UTC
*'Could u lay there, in the meadow under the willow with me?
To watch the stars fade away in the morning sun again.
No words needed, only the touch of your palm in mine.
Could you do that?'*
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 4:17 PM UTC
*''There it was again, creeping up from my toes to my neck
It found its way like it did before but not exactly how I remembered.
A little bit strange and kind of new, but still so comfortable.
Don't let your feet make it happen would my mother have said
if she could still look into my eyes.
She would have held me tight by my shoulders and asked not
to go away again, begged me to stay.
But I have this feeling again, it is just there in my head.
The urge to run away, far from where I am.
And I know I can run and someone else would try to do what
my mother cannot do anymore. So why would I want to try?
Why does it keep crawling back into my head after all these years?
Or was it always just there? Kept myself foolish.
Maybe it was, maybe it was not. Maybe I have been running all
this time and I came across myself again. There it is, with a sparkle
of new and strange... but the feeling of running will never change.''*
Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 3:14 PM UTC
*'They walked naked, all around in proud.
I sat covered, quiet and with shame.
To think I was better, for not doing the same.'*
*First time in a locker room of the gym,
Being the only one not brave enough to reveal
how I was truly born. Giving myself the
excuse of 'being better'. What nonsense my
friend said. You don't have to be shy.
But shy, I was not. It was something else,
a kind of fear of myself, I think.*
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 11:37 AM UTC
*'Stick your feet in solid ground.
Haunting ghosts you had bound;
creep through that rustic land.
All like your dreams had planned.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Just a thought of loneliness.'*
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 11:15 AM UTC
*'I see no sense in being
something, I dream about to be.
I rather be here in reality.'*
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 4:43 PM UTC