You dropped a china plate
It shattered into pieces
Just like her pre-existent jet black heart.
Snowflakes of ******* soaked her roof
While memories rolled down her cheeks.
So many sweet lies written on paper
Now turned into smudged ink.
If one were to taste her defeat
They’d puke, with leaf-bitter tinge lingering in their tongues.
They say sometimes it’s best to surrender and move on
But how can one, when they’re chained to love’s shore
Feathers and claw marks push her to run
But she is still,
Left to succumb
They say love’s beautiful and freeing
But why do I find it draped in vile?
Soaked in the nightfall
With blissful scars and femur
I drown inside a silent void.
A dimension with plastic humans
and empty space
brimming layers of water
and seas of errors
gravitates me towards its mantle
The world continues to peel along the stickers of hope
As you fly,
Drunk in glitter and bathed in fire.
Your ashes mercilessly fall to the ground,
False confidence stares back at you.
Your smoke touches the clouds and
With heavy hearts and dented brains
You limp towards destiny.
‘Ohh, don’t be a cynic’ you say
But where is the space for optimism
Holy noises and silent skies
Spill from the hourglass and wash over the globe
Maps are silver, the kind you don’t find now
Frenziedly bordered with plastic facts
Euphoria rolls over your skin
As the show continues to blare.
There was a time
When the world deemed to hate me
Colours were brightly painful
And paper stashed itself upon garbage
Words seemed to glisten sharp, melting in my nerves
While ink ruined all shirts
There existed a tale
Where ice cream crushed my tongue
And stones replaced my heart
Days were crippling hours of sleep
While home really felt like a room in hell
Museums sickened me
And operas peeled flesh
All your jolly entertainment seemed to buckle me down
And phone calls cost a living
Their tears trickled down my shoes
As our faces shuddered with guilt
Masses burned in sewages
While graveyards lined the castle of bliss
Crayons screeched down walls
colouring the sky gray
Jet black hearts pumped in corridors and colleges
So paint smothered the world in smoke.
Over time, I’ve realised that words like ‘sorry’ are not bandages, they’re like tape; the kind that peels off quick.
5 am felt in an apartment
Cereal on sofa in front of the T.V.
Amidst explosive news and rolling tapes
Comes a tear erasing my skin
When my heart turned into ice
And hit the marble
When sensations torpedoed and marks eroded
Is when happiness hit me like a train
'Drowning is a quiet, desperate thing'.- Brenna Twohy
It’s a silent scream in the middle of the ocean, a scar you leave back right before the waves carry you away.