Eyes are not just eyes. They hold stories of futures , seas and forest trees. Takes a few minutes for one to see. Look in your lovers eyes. Take a moment don't just observe their eye colour. Search for stories and lost history. Look hard and you'll find answers for unsolved mysteries. Scars of the past. Gardens bursting into life. You'll find hope , new beginnings and a cozy home. And if your lucky enough all you'll see will be endless amounts of love* ~
People often say to me “I wish I could write like you.” Which to some degree I should find humbling But if only they knew the truth That every time I touch the pen I'm afraid of what it might do Behind the guise of self expression it takes possession All defenses are torn a sunder in pain under its reign And I am helpless to stop it Like I would, even if I could anyway Each tear in me is subject to its tyranny I watch every sunset fearfully As the veil of darkness falls So do the castle walls It is then that the pen will begin to possess me again Coercing confessions of sin However, as much I hate it I abhor I love it more I concede that I need it There is a stink of distinction Between me and this ink pen Yet still somewhat synonymous Whatever I hide under the surface Determines its purpose And it always serves it Even if it hurts when I bleed through this pen.
i'm sorry for telling the complete truth, for once, and ruining our blissful ignorance that wasn't so much blissful at the depths, but there was a hint of smile inside, for both of us, until now