Lazarusmilkrivers- a glassy riverine;Lazarus23 hours ago in Free Verse
streams of tar being close-
you will dive in one, and strands of threadbare hair will change.
violet bouquets below eyes, and burnt brown lashes- (it is like a bad joke)
such book-gardens you had
(smelled like an antique shop with a coffeemill and heaps of newspaper)
but water drank the ink- wasteland sighed
naked and pure like an orchid,
you were floating,
fingers digged the mud, licking dirt-
an overdose of empathy.
evenings spent in bookreports-
how your knuckles hurt after you shattered the façade of mrs woolf or plath;
their train to reality was never found.
you could play the violin blindfolded,
sing along the dust-filled gramophone sound-
valentine kissed and hummed,
pressing index finger on a hip clay, on lean stomach
one sunday you simply buried face into the same mud;
overdosed again- but it was the last time:
or do they have a slam club in hell?
Merci - APH Canada x ReaderMerci - APH Canada x Reader16 hours ago in Short Stories
alternate ending #2 for It's time we part.
You sighed as you sat down in the café, the aroma of coffee, tea and confectioneries surrounding your gloomy aura.
You sniffed as you thought back of what had happened back there in the apartment. You knew you should move on, especially when you had said your parting words with him,
It's time we part, Alfred.
It can't be helped that the topic just comes running back into your mind. Why? What went wrong? You sighed once more, covering your eyes with the palms of your hands, "Maybe I'm just no good..."
"Excuse me Miss, May I take your order?"
You sniffed again and looked up to the waiter, ready to order (choice of drink) and some cake to help cheer you up. He smiled to you warmly, his hands holding that little notebook to take customers' orders.
Your eyes met his and god, his eyes has such a gorgeous hue of violet. "Miss?" He calle