the sharp twists of light in the alleyway as we walk with our jackets tightly wrapped around ourselves... it's a sharp flare inside us that churns our hearts' melodies into song, and we feel the emotion pouring out each note, even if we are out of breath and breathe in a vacuum. the universe is too beautiful to turn away from, to join herds of mundanity in supposed "fun"; I feel drawing closer to the restless pursuit, to the tying of my hearts and hands to the halo far, far above: to not be insane, but driven, and so driven that I may dim the lights to hear the silence; shut my eyes to taste the stillness; snipe the lying laughter through the window; climb this tree such that the clouds are but molten rock, and the stars are christmas lights to change the light bulbs for.
my weaknesses are my ties to gravel.
--
it's time to boil fire, stir guilt and shame into a mixed broth to tear down your throat, squelch the flames of smoke from fire breathing creatures, and snap fingers to the shadows cast on the walls. this time around, it feels like a tennis match, and I have lost the first set; so, we snap back, and hit harder. (a dry mindset, but one to have as I stamp the gravel beneath and march about the dried shrubs.)
--
ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
--
he tightens the straps of his pack
takes a final sip of frivolity
checks that his bottle is filled with solitude
enough to slake any yearning for peace
--
the memories drool out the corner of his mouth
each time he opens to speak
melting to nothing?
our words were like wisps of air, or thin smoke, startling the lungs but never reaching the blood cells. a cheery heart, at least, carried our smiles, however quickly the hope evaporated.
--
"we live on an island surrounded by a sea of ignorance. as our island of knowledge grows, so does the shore of our ignorance."
some people swing from tree to tree at the heart of the island, playing monkey bars with the branches, vines eagerly in hand. the island is a jungle, a playground. others hear the shore, the waves crashing by, and seek the sand between their toes, the water massaging their feet. they build sand castles on the edge, hoping to extend the island, to grow the mystery we were put on; but doesn't the shore occasionally bring a wave that crashes the castles? wipes them clean away?
--
ransom notes keep falling out your mouth
--
he tightens the straps of his pack
takes a final sip of frivolity
checks that his bottle is filled with solitude
enough to slake any yearning for peace
--
the memories drool out the corner of his mouth
each time he opens to speak
melting to nothing?
our words were like wisps of air, or thin smoke, startling the lungs but never reaching the blood cells. a cheery heart, at least, carried our smiles, however quickly the hope evaporated.
--
"we live on an island surrounded by a sea of ignorance. as our island of knowledge grows, so does the shore of our ignorance."
some people swing from tree to tree at the heart of the island, playing monkey bars with the branches, vines eagerly in hand. the island is a jungle, a playground. others hear the shore, the waves crashing by, and seek the sand between their toes, the water massaging their feet. they build sand castles on the edge, hoping to extend the island, to grow the mystery we were put on; but doesn't the shore occasionally bring a wave that crashes the castles? wipes them clean away?
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