The Song of ArdorMasking a true beingPlaying by their rulesFacing the truthful liesShading own thoughtsWaiting to be goneLiving upon restrictionsRestricting time, money, emotions, thoughts, life itselfThrowing my emotions all aroundFalling in dreams about himStreaking across torn pagesChasing thoughts of departureWondering if I should just fade away.
Living in InceptionWhat do I feel?Lost?Confused?Terrified?I do feel lost,I feel like I'm floating in a sea of viral connections, entertwining and bending and tying within eachother.I don't know which way I'm heading.I wish I did.I do feel confused,I feel like I'm facing a dream of mine, clouded and coated and unrealistic in every which way.I don't know what to do.I wish I did.I do feel terrified,I feel like I'm facing a monster holding all my beloved, reaching and teasing and wanting me to come along.I don't know how to react to it.I wish I did.Everything feels like a dream... something that doesn't feel real. I've heard that if you are in a dream, you should pinch yourself, and I have many times... but I feel like pinching is not enough to wake me up.
WaningYou wouldn't understand the pain I go throughI don't even understand why I live with itI see the pain that they go throughI live it, I endure it, I embrace it, I cryThey never see my pain, what I go through to make them happyIt's a curse, it's a blessingI know what they are feelingIt's my only way of understandingBut why must I kill myself whenever it's too much?
Roses are RedShe sits and she waits, waiting to show her true formShe tickles her small dome of magenta, eager to breathe fresh airShe finally sees a hole, peering out to her familyShe starts stretching, a glow warming her, and she partsHer bloomers are white, and fade to a glorious pink.The edges are frayed in cerise and her face coated in goldAs the days lead on, the nights shivering down to her stalkShe stands tall, her spine keeping her head highAs she ages golden spots reside on her dress from her tears,she wilts in despair, wishing to be held closeas she crumbles to the ground in fearlost with her sisters.
My Secret AromaDrip. Drip. drip.We sit close together, a woolen blanket draping over our bodies, encasing us in fuzzy warmth. The cool air kissed our pale skin, teasing us to travel back inside and watch T.V.Drip. Drip. Dribble.The little driblets of rain softly splatter against the metallic porch roof hanging above us, supported by strong beams at each corner. I shiver as the surrounding trees rustle, and your arm gingerly wraps around my waist, cracked, swollen fingers brushing against my blouse. Smiling, I rest my head in the crook of your neck, reaching over and gripping your hand lightly, pressing tenderly on your calluses as you bend down to kiss my ear.Dribble. Drip. Drop.I shift on the wooden bench you bought yesterday at Constens, which was put on sale at least two times. You finger the cloth on my shirt and rest your head against mine, our bodies fitting together perfectly like puzzle pieces.Drop. Drop. Drip.In your hand sits a cigarette, a trail of smoke protruding from the end. The