Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
sage Jul 2017
He brought your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss against your knuckles.

His crown that he wore always seemed so stable in his head, his blonde hair looking as if it were made of the same gold of his castle.

His smile seemed kind, but you could see the wicked in his emerald eyes.

He had been cast in a different role from what his black heart truly desired.

He tried his best to hide it through his velvet coats and admirable wealth, but you knew better than to believe in this fake fairytale.

You pulled your hand away, and ran from him as fast as you could.

Because you knew,

He may be a Prince, but he sure as hell isn't Charming.
you'd know, wouldn't you?
sage Jul 2017
i've never felt more alone then through the days that my cheeks are streaked with tears.

i've never felt colder than the days that the rain bats against my windows.

i've never felt more poisoned then the day i first heard you laugh.

i've never felt as much pain as i did the day you left me.

and i've never felt more serene than the day i died
why can i only think about dying now that you're gone?
sage Jul 2017
today I spoke once again of my problems though another soul.

someone I loved told me they knew people who suffered from their thoughts, from the reality projected to them in their minds.

I held my hand subconsciously over my scars and smiled sadly.

"That's terrible" I said "It's so hard when you feel empty, and the chemicals that make up 'happy' aren't there"

"I couldn't imagine it" they said.

I held back my tears.

'I feel it through each day', I wanted to say.

But I didn't.

I changed the subject.

And hurt myself again.
I cried while I wrote this. I just needed someone to know.
sage Jul 2017
My heart is like a broken bone – it could be fixed, but will it ever really be the same as it once was?

Now,
I don’t believe it can be fixed anymore.

I feel like the sunset in black and white - losing the colour from my life, all because she never wanted me.

It’s as if she- the sun- has burnt out and left me – the blue moon – without a drop of light to warm me and bring back the colour I had lost from being alone.

If the stars were to align the same way, then there could be a beauty like her, but then without her smile, there are no stars in the sky, no light in my heart, nothing to look for in the lonely nights that push me to the ground over and over again.

If I were to look up from the stab wound in my chest, it would be to see her hand at the hilt – a devious smile painting her face with all the colours she has kept hidden from the world.

As the blood from my heart drains to the ground below me, I would drop to my knees, and paint the ground in crimson - my last colour left.

My blood would paint the story of my love for her, before my life is stolen away from me.

And yet the true irony of it all would be the love I hold for her until my last breath- and not even then would my feeling fade.

Long after my life has ended, my heart would still belong to her. It would still yearn for all the intricacies of her being.

Pandora’s Box has released itself on my heart, tearing at it as if it were a hungry lion attacking a peaceful gazelle.

I am forever drawn to her, as if my soul was trapped in her eyes.

The gods have turned against me, making my shadow grow, letting itself bleed through my veins and into my soul.

A soul with no colour should not be a soul at all.

I am forever burdened with no muse, no passion.  

I am a lone wolf, destined to lose my life without a love in the world.

No one to care for, no one to remember in the long nights.

No one.
an edited excerpt of an english assignment from years back. I got a B.
sage Jun 2017
staging my thoughts to stage my mind,
to tell everyone that I'm doing fine

though I'm about to fall apart
because it was only hope in my hopeful heart

the hope of the world, one that understands
where the waves only crash down on golden sands

it's stupid to think that someone could care
for someone who wishes they weren't even there

so i'll pack my bags, and leave it so
who would care if I had to go?
sage Jun 2017
I stare at you all day, rosemary,
only at you.

Though all day, rosemary,
you never look back at me.

Not a single glance, rosemary,
i never meet your eyes.

I could imagine their colour, rosemary,
a satin soft blue.

You run your hand through your hair, rosemary,
like your fingers touch pure gold.

What does it feel like, rosemary?
to be what everyone wished they had?

I wish i had you, rosemary,
to feel okay again.

You could save me, rosemary.
if you just look back.
well, of course. rosemary is love in witchcraft
sage Jun 2017
I told you once, in a silent whisper
my wishes, my fears,

I told you of leaving to finally feel,
to finally not break again.

I told you that it wouldn't matter,
that no one would mind.

But I spoke so quietly,
And when you asked me to repeat myself,
I told you it didn't matter.

Now I have blood tracing down my skin,
and it really did matter.

But I was so quiet.
so this was my day, how was yours?
Next page