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To the lonely sea and the skyin the dim of twilight
I feel immortal
but I feel blue;
stardust and sun drenched
torsos

watercolor pain

like the desert misses the rain

I remember you:
a sky of smog
coasting on thin ice,
limbs tangled
around the
sextile sun and uranus

bones

dust

insomnia on the silvermoon

but I am the wayward child
and there's a hole in my soul,
so please show me

show me what the stars look like tonight.
SenescenceBefore the rain,
all the leaves are brown.

Here's to green memories -
but the tree that loves its leaves
will never know the art of aging.

You found love in our yellow room,
but winter's holding my hand;
it won't be long.

When somebody says your name for the last time,
they gently take your life.
I should write this down.holy shit I should write this down -

the bad advice kills me;
like self publish WAY before they're ready.
how can we make it better?

you don't write to get a DD;
you write something awesome and then get a DD because you're there.

you don't pay to be published.

publishing isn't the end all be all.

we're ready for you.
Clarity"Come. You be a gear right here,"
she dares and she is tempting. I admit,
enclosed worlds don't appeal to me.
I am embers on the highway.
I'll forge myself into something greater.
The harvest suits me not, so forth I'll go;
judge me not.

Show me how the sun rises.
Even in the dead of winter,
I am scorched like the Earth from the inside-out.
The heat of this nameless, godless desert is trapped within my wounds.

Follow the shuffling feet,
the bloodied shapes
like patchwork hope sewn together from someone else's sacrifice.
Unmistakable, undeniable, guilty;
but the answer will have escaped you.
With the perfect clarity of ragged eyes
all become
WishesSo many people wish upon stars.
How many secrets do they hold?
Oh, it must be over a million,
Over a billion.
Trillions at least.
I can't even imagine how many there must be.
Not one person hasn't tried it.
Great, dark skies with tiny, twinkling lights.

Stars are trusted by people.
They never tell your secrets.
And they always listen.
Rise of the sun, the disappear.
Set of the sun, they are back to hear.
What is Hallowed and CommonI don't know if I believe in love
But I sure as hell hope it doesn't find me.
I've got too much going on to worry about that.
Hell, I don't even want it.

I think.

I see all these other people moaning and groaning about it
Because they haven't found anyone yet.
They use that word for it? "Found"?
What, is it something you just stumble across without meaning to?

If that's it, love sounds pretty damn inconvenient.
I mean, you're not prepared for it.
You don't know exactly what to do with it,
the first time.

And things like that mess up everything.

Those star-eyed idiots say it isn't so.
That it's supposed to be unexpected.
Well, so is a mug
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July 11, 2010
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~CreatrixPhilosopher Aug 6, 2010
oops trees are actually from

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