
--
From the fringes of my vision,
Shadows creep in.
And there's a little tinny knocking,
That won't cease it's ministrations.
So where may I reprieve?
For I know good and well,
I won't sleep tonight.
--
Stand on the table.
Let me feel your warmth.
Our tender flesh will meld, our hands together.
I can feel the pulse of yours, that quick, flittery pace.
Let me claim it as mine own.
"I've never tasted anything so delicious." She looks at me with a dazed smile on her face. Her eyes are wide with wonder, like a dog presented with a bone.
Focus on her happiness.
Focus on her happiness.
Ignore the blood stains.
When you look at me, look at me for me.
Not some idealized image of me, not some figure in my place.
See me for me.
Differences
I'll always be a little bit different.
As children, we are taught to group things into categories, to match traits with objects.
But how can you classify, something that's a little of both? Something that cannot certainly lie in any category.
Though is it not the natural delineation? Is it not expected that we, as dynamic people, do not fit into rigid categories?
I used to wish I could, but,
The world would simply be too boring without these oddities.
Confusions
I wish there could be a day,
You'd see me in a different light.
On a damp night in May,
A buzzing bumblebee's flight.
Under that starry night,
We feel each other's fright,
And we finally understand
Love at its height.
Glass
You remind me of shattered glass.
Something so beautiful, so reflective,
When the sun hits you,
You glow.
But when someone wants to pick you up,
You leave a red gash.
How could something so beautiful,
Hurt so bad?
Some seaside
A windy expanse
We make a beeline
For that sun-drenched romance
And somehow
That's enough.
A fiery bolt illuminates the background
And now I know
I just know
That today wasn't meant to be.
Where..
It was as if the wind had never blown a gust, as if the leaves had never rustled.
The silence pervaded every crevice of this wretched world.
Even the waves, ever drawn by the moon, lost their tide.
Eerieness in its pureness.
I can remember when the world had light again. I remember the rustling, the whooshing, the slapping of the waves against rocky shores. Time as a concept warped around them, bending to their every action. The Sun's heat beamed down and warmed our skin.
Now, when the sun beams down, it burns.