You feel that you're falling, but
that's just your body rising to the skies.
See the sun shining upon the green fields
let the rain tickle you and
smile with your soul.
I know it hurts,
it does, of course,
there's a war in your soul,
but, I tell you,
it's only your demons falling
the good in yourself is the one with the glory.
It's confusing, your legs are still weak
but slowly you'll forget about crawling
and start walking instead.
It takes time, you know
after living in the dark
it's hard to get used to the light
but you'll see
your eyes will stop hurting
and with the moon they'll shine
in the highest skies.
I know it's scary
and you only want to hide
you feel you're fading
but trust me when I tell you:
*You are not dying,
you're coming back to life.
wrote this to myself in one of my good moments
I saw war machines between the clouds
and while the sky was burning
people on the ground were living carelessly,
ignoring the Apocalypse above.
I saw a madman hysterically laughing and dancing
amongst people with bleeding smiles
and I, as one of them,
was wandering by the river,
not knowing if anything was real.
(A stranger took a picture of me
and I felt pretty.)
Then finding myself in the middle of nowhere
I saw demons burning everything I owned
—a poem, a dress, and your picture—
My legs frightened running and running and running
until my body touched the ground.
I knew then
that it was the end.
just a summary of my dream last night
There are clouds covering my soul
and I know the rain they're crying
is hurting your heart too.
I'd make it nice and shiny
just so you can feel the warmth,
but I don't know how to do it anymore.
Clouds of silence darkening me whole
unspoken words I have for you
are dying under the tempest
while the blank page stares at me
and I feel useless.
A rain of fire
burning us both.
The sun always shines after a storm
and I hope
a rainbow will appear
before these falling flames
will turn us to ashes
flying over the ocean between.
i want to be your sun
the reminder that all of those demons are gone
i want to be the one
who you yearn to see at midnight
i want you to grasp my wrist at dusk
pleading me to never leave at twilight
no, i dont want to be your moon
i dont need a ball of fire behind me to shine,
no, i dont want to be your stars
there is only one me that you should find
i am more than a silhouette of something shallow,
i am not that broken to scatter all around your black treacle
but i want to be your constant dose of relief
those demons behind your face will vanish because of me
yet you always seek for those **** little twinkling dots
because there is more of them
but i am also one of them, why can't you see?
it's probably because your eyes burn when you look at me.
my baby exists when he wants to
leaving vitamin D outside my door
gives me kisses on my arteries
kisses my bruises even more
my baby gives flowers for breakfast
and claims they won’t ever bloom
he loves me, he loves me not
he speaks in glances across the room
my baby breaks my heart
my baby adores me so
my baby knows just the right spot
gotta let my baby go
Oh how I wish she was you
But then again,
I can just *hope
there is a boy who smells like crushed up pills
who licks his lips when he thinks hard
and holds his hands in the pockets of his
he is the kind of person with the kind of mind
that you wish you could read; you want to
delicately crack open his skull and reveal the
contents written in its folds.
you want to know what is written on the crumpled up
slips of graph paper that he carries in his jacket pockets.
you want to know why he is and why you are and
what mess of universal ties somehow connect you.
The hours disappear instantly like blown out
flames off weary candles.
But time is no match for such raging hearts.
We would still hold up the receding
indigo ceiling above us.
We would prop up the sullen moon to stave
off the dawning day.
We will clutch the dwindling stars
and hug them close to our chests.
Because we know the words too well.
Words we simply couldn't cage except to say that...
We are not yet ready to leave
but we look forward to
diving headlong into
the inevitable restart.
Just so the day could grant us a
slate brand new.
Just so that come night,
we could begin all over again.