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419 · Jan 2018
Silver & Gold.
Ophelia Jan 2018
I have a story,
You and I are the main characters,
You’re pure gold and i’m pure silver,
At least,
We used to be,
Now we’re more tarnished,
And reduced to broken pieces.

For eight years Silver walked down a lonely road,
For nine years gold did the same,
But fast forward one year later,
And suddenly another figure appeared and started to walk beside them,
Silver look at Gold,
And Gold looked at Silver,
Both smiled that fake smile of theirs,
Certain their secrets would never be found.

It was rather ironic actually,
Because they shared more than they should have,
Some things still wait to be found,
But for now,
Gold and Silver walk down that lonely road,
Cold hands interlocked,
And yet they still somehow create heat.

Gold,
I have a quote for you by C.S Lewis that I think you should hear
They said,
“Friendship is unnecessary,
Like philosophy,
Like art,
It has no survival value,
Rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.”
You give me a reason to survive,
And I hope I do the same for you.

Deep feelings always mean more than words are capable of saying,
Words are like that,
They always become a little different immediately after feelings are expressed,
A little bit distorted,
Sometimes even foolish,
But believe me when I say,
I love you.

It’s a bit scary actually,
Loving someone requires a leap of faith,
And a soft landing is never guaranteed,
But I know that you’re worth it,
You’ll always be pure gold to me,
And don’t you ever forget that.
Ophelia Nov 2018
There is an absence of colour,
I used to look around and see fields of red and blue,
Splatters of marigold and mint,
Hues and shades of orchid and honey,
And now,
Theres is an absence of colour,
And I can't help but think that maybe it’s because there is an absence of you.
247 · Jan 2018
Nothing Compared To You.
Ophelia Jan 2018
You are a bittersweet memory of a person I used to be,
Whilst you are painted in colours of vibrant blues, purples and greens,
I am washed out browns, greys and blacks,
All the colour I have in my life,
are nothing rivalled to all the colour you have in yours,
The strokes of cardinal, splashes of purple, and the accents of yellow,
Are too good for me to compare to.

You are the lilac sky,
The delicate breeze,
The falling rain,
And the precious dandelion that I am afraid to touch,

I am the feeling of dread,
The thistle,
The dull grey sky,
And the wilted flower you step on by the sidewalk

I am nothing compared to you.
180 · Jan 2018
Untitled.
Ophelia Jan 2018
She is in love with the broken pieces of tortured souls,
And the sound of spilled ink,
With lost expressions,
And,
Them.

She wishes for a cosmic love affair,
But she’s as lonesome as a blue moon,
And she’s stuck in Wonderland,
Mourning the hollow vast,
Playing the same song over and over again in a forest full of tears.

Can’t you feel how cold the floor is?
Her feet are frozen,
They’re yellow and blue,
Don’t you recognize those eyes?
The sight of a burning sun losing its light?
The illusion of warmth fools you,
For the better or worse.
172 · Jan 2018
Nothing
Ophelia Jan 2018
Maybe next time you meet me,
won’t meet me at all,
Before you will not be a girl,
But a cracked shell,
A shell with no rationality,
No motive,
No happiness,
No sadness,
Just,
Nothing at all.

— The End —