Before the sun rose,
And as if from a wild dream,
She quickly grasped the air
Slowly inching the dress
Playing each moment
And knowing this was the day
Sheíd be born again.
when the sun began to set i really couldnt help making use of the light. perhaps that could be my new inspiration. a birthday gift from me, on my birthday. i don't want to be a year older; its so depressing. i want to stay 16.
oh, forgot to mention that this is taking part in the born again contest: [link]
I stare into solid forms of brown in the mirror and begin thinking, not through thoughts but more airs of twenty colours of feelings and dreams that donít exist. I donít care that theyíre not there and I donít care that I donít, but I worry that fate will. Iím nothing to the next person and nothing to my neighbours and colours that spin from my cares are white; nothing there, nothing here. Iím walking and seeing twenty shades of feeling again and I know flitters of eyes and turns donít mean a thing they seem. Iíll never feel the same colours for them twice because theyíll fly into tomorrow and out the back fence. It doesnít worry me that I see myself as that, a transit bus route, a temporary ticket in the back of your bag until you find another behind dust ridden toys of seven year old memories and voice. No colour and no change and this is how it goes. But whatís slowly inking the edges are colours of doubt, because cages of screams donít care much for silence, donít care when thereís nothing to gain and everything else. They scream and sing, sing and scream that one day colours of grey and black will replace the white for being nothing, a one off glance and turn and nothing twice thought.
also part of my art prac. might uploadthe rest later.