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506 · Apr 2019
girl with the antelope mask
cass Apr 2019
cursed with dark magic from taking the wrong path,
a girl made her way towards the masquerade ball.
many had told her not to take the shortcut,
but her shoes were blistering her heels and hurting her toes.

it was only a shortcut.

knocked out by a strong wind,
waking with no recollection of what happened,
she continued.

the ball was extravagant and many were there.
the crown prince was present
with his eye on the girl with the antelope mask.
how delicate it was made and how smooth the material was,
the beauty of her must be stunning from underneath.

they danced all night until the party began to die,
and it was then that the prince wanted to know the identity of his love.
but the mask was stuck tight to her face,
and embarrassed the girl.
she spoke about the shortcut,
and the prince knew.

his true love cried before him,
but his father would never let him marry a girl in a mask.
so she ran away with the treacherous thoughts in her mind,
with the crown prince shouting from behind.

she ran until her feet wouldn’t,
and found herself in the darkest parts of the forest.
304 · Apr 2019
unlike no other
cass Apr 2019
if there was something inhuman about your touch that i could explain,
it would be equivalent to that of an eternal flame.
if there was something to describe the emotions you gave me,
it would feel like a strong ocean wave.

many overpowering sensations you give me are equal to natural disasters.
but for me,
it’s always so calm.

the earth operates with these thundershowers of weather,
and without them,
there wouldn’t be the world we know today.

without you,
i wouldn’t be who i am today.

so rain on me,
even when i can’t take anymore.
91 · Feb 2020
initials of my love
cass Feb 2020
everything you do makes me smile,
however way you go about it.
grab my heart and twist it the good way

oh ehg,
how you make me so happy
and loved.
68 · Feb 2020
i dont know
cass Feb 2020
why do i feel so lost
when there is so much around me
yet so many people make me feel so small
as if i was an ant in the city.

my hobby is writing,
and yet you tell me:
you can't speak metaphorically.

i want to fall into the waves nearby,
wash up on shore with the words spoke
etched into my skin.

if i cant write,
according to you,
then why am i alive?

— The End —