it’s strange. he’s got the warmest complexion – tanned caramel undertones, brown freckles sprinkled across his cheeks, and straight black hair that lays flat against his head instead of the brown waves that encase my own i envy his eyes, they’re hooded, and half-moon shaped, swelling with innocence so large and so doe-like […]
I still remember the first time I mailed you a letter. It was late in November, a quiet and wintry night entrenched with white-out conditions from an unexpectedly ash-ridden blizzard. The snow seemed to encapsulate my emaciated legs, and I still think of how hard it was to move through that heavy mass of human
Like an undertone in a song, any echo of a noise carries voices that can be heard if one pays particularly close attention and has a desire for the truth. They come from the whining ceiling light, flickering on and off, and they come from the vents circulating musty air. It is easy to hear
all the colors of the Moon bluish, blackish, blue: in the eyes of a heart fractured and aching with the turn of a strange machine. rise on a pillar of sand stardust sweeps by Your bruised face Your lip, cut by the jagged edge of a local supernova. “hi” my rib
i am afraid of holes. i googled what that meant, but She just looked at me with sad eyes. “why do you wanna know?” oh. that’s okay. my ligaments didn’t matter anyway. my muscles were temporary! (they grow back, you know.) “naivete is a diagnosable condition” She said “you’re going to need
If I were to weigh the scales would you come closer? just a little? If I weighed them in your favor gave you the power Or would you stay where you are there gently complacent placid patient You always are If I gave you my name what would it amount to against yours against
MADNESS faded backs away slumps to the ground stares shakes I can’t I know. It’s wrong. we shouldn’t be here. we are. terrible scene, It’s like stories, really mattered darkness danger you didn’t want to be happy? the world the way bad had happened? (CONTINUED) We
Let me set the scene for you: I was 15 and we were on the way to the airport. It was all fun and games till he turns around and says, “You just be and great things will happen to you”. I’ll never forget those words for I knew he wasn’t lying. My father, to
Let the bells toll, let the streets clear, Let the leaves fall as we shed tears. For the magician’s lost his magic, And he now lives in fear. If only you could see him in his glory days, For he could’ve made you levitate. And yes, he’s tried to meditate Yet all he could
on waves in the daytime by Maddie Agne We waited until the dead of night not waiting on anyone in particular maybe my grandfather and I remember the sky maybe it was a ceiling covered in flowers or stars or eight glasses of champagne and The beach is dark and empty this is
