I've cut open my eyes And to my surprise, I found an old carousel projector With millions of upsidedown pictures inside.
The machine starts to whir, And my life flashes by, Every memory frame by frame, On these convenient little slides
Every laugh, and every smile Every absence of joy, Those slides seem to last longer on this carousel of poise.
My friends were talking about writing poetry and it's admittedly been awhile since I've written anything so I decided ***** it one more wouldn't hurt, I was gonna touch it up a bit here and there but tbh I can't be bothered, it was also gonna be longer butttttttttt :p (also if someone says carousel of poise doesn't make any sense too bad deal with it I do what I want)
I read about her somewhere. ... About a lady in a white bralette.
Always bloomed alongside the flowers, with a scent, that made you look at her like she’s one of them. She came into a life with the waves. Crashed into you like the ocean onto the shore. Her touch was feverish and her steps were light.
Like the falling leaves she tiptoed around you, danced with the flames and got you lost in her madness. The kind of madness, that makes you walk through the forest in the middle of the night. The kind of madness, that erases all gravity and lifts you high up in the sky. The kind of madness, that makes you drop sanity out of the palm of your hands.
But her unexpected visit was just it. A visit. As soon as the wind blew she disappeared. And she was gone. Gone with the wind. The gravity reappeared and your feet we’re back on the ground. The sudden twist of events was often too much for most to handle. I live, but many have fallen deeper in the madness that existed only with her existence.
Their souls will forever be heated, but their eyes will never see again.