DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, to be rich is to notice the fair from the unfair:)
get well soon only when hope not a lie lonely hospital cell unavailable played dead and fell nothing in sequence all hung on the adequacy paper said from future penholder skies unread the green one too to the land a stranger soon
what you earn is what you keep don't count just drown in oblivious sleep wallets light rage blinds visible sights the poor scream the rich gleam like an invisible ink flood evaporation in the air a silenced blood chocolate missed the ecstasy everything shut down to reality
bones shrunk never unnoticed to the think thunk now things are pale even the best bread is stale how I remain all calm in shameful disdain??? needs become old whether blazing summer or winter ******* cold and in my broken chair I be the pathetic dreamy version of old me
She’s the last of the fairy tales. The mobs came with pitchforks and torches. The ashes of the golden era stains her skin. Her magic dwindled, wounded by the sins of man. She seeks not revenge, nor justice. She seeks punishment. I have been the guardian of her heart; A heart she feels she no longer needs. There will be a day where it beats again. Not this day. On this day she waits in the dark, Waiting for the day her memory is forgotten; The day her tragedy becomes a myth. On that day, reckoning will come To remind them their cruelty is unequalled By the spirit of a fallen star. On that day, I will be her harbinger. On that day, I will resurrect the memory They wished would stay buried in the depths. On that day, the hearts of man will cry for mercy, Only to fall upon deaf ears... Because I made a promise. Cross my heart, she’ll never die. Look your devil in her eyes.
I lay here before you, u n d o n e. And it is my greatest fear. And it is my greatest desire. Oh, my darling, set my soul on fire. How I have waited for this moment, how I have yearned to be so close to you. For you to be so close to me, for you to see me in nothing but the pale light of the moon.
The sky transitions from yellow to orange, From orange to red, and red to dusk. Her snowy hair and diamond skin Render its final sparkle before the sun sleeps. Fallen royalty, she is. I met her at the crossroads On a path leading somewhere, and to nowhere. We shared the moment of anguish. “Your majesty,” I say But her gentle yet worn hands cover my words. “Shh,” her eyes tell me. No interest in words of the past, No desire to venture towards the future, no. Instead we stand in silence Allowing the burden of hope to settle in. The sadness behind her beauty is daunting. She has known love before, But never felt the warmth of being in it. Her tears are figurative, for I know the look. My hand searches for hers and We watch the darkness swallow the sun.
“I’ll be dead by morning, oh the night is young. I’ll be dead by morning, my final song is sung.”