denise-annWhisper

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After BeforeDoomed. / What should we tell the windows? / The clamor of dreamers in the dark.
39
Apr 14, 2015
A Lesson from AngelsIt turned me into this. It made scales out of my skin, yet for some reason it has also ripped into my flesh. Is it trying to protect me or **** me? It stole the light from my fingertips and the curves from around my tongue. It gave me the power of flight. It strengthened my legs and hardened my feet. / Now I am both safe and dead. I am empty of luminescence and I have razors between my teeth. I fly often these days, most of the time above the clouds. / Now I have strong knees and firmly placed toes. I am good at walking away now.
6
Mar 27, 2015
A Love Letter From A DrunkDear Jay. / I know your name is not really Jay, but at the moment I can't remember what it is. Somewhere between the fire in my throat, the spinning top in my skull, the sixth bottle of beer, I've forgotten. / I'm sorry.
28
Jul 8, 2013
A Love Letter From The Mind To The HeartDear heart. I am the one in charge here. Neuroscience has long taken the responsibility of handling emotions from you. I am in charge of everything in this body, dear heart, I tell you what to do, and you do it. I think we both know I'm the better thinker here. / So why must you ache, why must you suffer for what I do? For every scalding thought you recoil in your cage and pound on the bars of your prison, wishing to be worn on someone's sleeve, dear heart, you've been hidden for too long. You don't know how this world works, and I do, so you must obey me when I tell you what to do. I know it hurts to keep beating despite of how the chemical reactions in my mind may affect you. For every feeling I take as a thought, every thought you mistake as a feeling, we both protest. For a long, long time we refuse to communicate with each other and I know you are tempted to rest, to stop beating because you're the one aching. It's not me, dear heart, that clenches like a fist, crumples inward like a useless scrap of paper, collapses on itself like a star on the brink of a supernova, it is not me, dear heart, that gets hurt. / Why do I only ache when I'm facing a mathematical problem, a complex theory, a questionable logic, a memory-loss crisis, why do I only suffer when I think really hard, even though I am the one in charge of emotions and feelings? Why is it you, not me, that a knife buries itself in when there is emotional pain? Why is it you that has be shredded into blood strings and crimson feathers of sinew, as if you were plucked from an angel's bleeding wings while heaven screeched its protest? Why are you the only one that is punished?
8
Sep 2, 2013
Bag of BonesI want to believe that I am not nothing. That I am a conflagration struggling against the crushing darkness. That I am a flare of light, ephemeral and inconsequential but brilliant and visible, nonetheless. I want to believe that I am not the monster I have always feared. That I have weaving fingers and unwavering hands that hold and cradle and carry. That my shoulders have known tears and my tears have known shoulders. I want to believe that I am not a desecrated ruin that can only weather the storm by staying dead and broken. That my glass innards are fractured and unwhole but form colored spider webs from shades of my blood. That my parched skin is merely paper begging for the taste of ink. That there is a story waiting to be written. That there is someone willing to write it. I want to believe that I am a survivor. That I can break and topple and crumble into shambles and rise five minutes later and keep walking without looking back. That I am not hollow inside. That I am not a completely horrible creature. That I float on hurricanes. / I want to believe that I am capable of these things. / I want someone to believe that I am capable of these things.
7
Dec 5, 2014
BlueBlue / is the color of the mid-morning sky / dotted with the white
24
Apr 8, 2014
Boy, Please Do(n't)Boy, don't you dare look at me like that. / Like I'm a question, a riddle, a puzzle, jigsaw pieces that don't quite fit with each other. Like I'm an unsatisfactory answer, a justification riddled with holes, a problematic solution to a solvable problem. Don't look at me as if I'm a blank sheet of paper, as if you can see what isn't there, as if you see beyond this cage while even I can't see through it. Just...don't look at me. / Boy, don't you dare talk to me like that.
18
Jul 23, 2013
CelestaSloth / The idyll which is deadly / to the transient mind
50
Mar 18, 2014
Clipped Verses IMy blood is ink / And my heart is an empty inkwell
2
Nov 22, 2013
CloseHe lays himself on his bed / And watched through the ceiling / Whilst a thousand jewels said
20
May 13, 2013
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