Just a writer who loves words and making them mean more.
I wonder if they know that the motivation to do anything comes from the drive of not wanting THIS THING to consume me. I wonder if they can hear my heart pounding with every lie as I claim to be okay.
I want to trace your eyes with my fingers so they sting with the oils of my essence. I want you to feel the pain I do when you leave in the mornings.
"The last time you came to see me there were anchors in your eyes, hardback books in your posture. You were the five star general of sureness, a crisp white tuxedo of a man.
He told me it was pretty; But that he couldn't stay. He left me in the field; But I couldn't stay away. Apparently, I'm too old; I should just not go, okay.
Remember what this feels like. Remember the parking in Chip 'n Dale. Remember the escalator that feels like it's five miles long.
The green branches and Colorful flowers flutter Softly in the wind. The ribbons blow softly and overlap. It's here where they weep. It's here where they don't know. It's here where they don't forget.
I left it in the china shop. You know the one on fifth street. I left it there and when I went back, it wasn't there.
“But alas, the world is not a wish-granting factory.”.
I don't deserve to cry. I've already said too much. You don't deserve my tears. You've already tried too hard. We can't do this anymore. We don't belong here. This isn't ours. This happy. These...
He said it happened. No one could believe it. But he saw it. The girl who they said was Unbreakable: Broke today. They said she'd never fall; Never break. But today, She did. Her world fell apart.
Once you said I want you, I believed you. Once you said I love you, I said me too. You told me everything I needed to hear. You became my everything With the sweet nothings whispered in my ear.
"We live not only in a world of thoughts, but also in a world of things. Words without experience are meaningless." -- Vladimir Nabokov.
We might be infinite. Sometimes we feel we are. But when all we read about is death and destruction and horror in our world, we know we will come to an end soon enough.
When he looks at me, he sees me. His eyes see mine, and then beyond. The blue of his looks beyond the green of mine. He sees my soul. Not in a cliché way. Just me.
It seems as though Everything is Slowly Falling To P i e c e s. And I can't stop it.