Why do we keep on wearing the same shoes when we know that it blisters our feet? Why do we keep on walking around on them when at the end of the day, our toes blush with pain? Why do we glide so lively when we just really want to stop, throw our shoes away, walk barefoot and never care? It's so ironic; we are so vain that we swallow every ounce of pain.
I never wanted anything from you
Just a friend to talk to
I don't understand this game
Why I always have to go back, contain
What is it that you want from me?
I never wanted to be your "baby"
Memories, I'm so sick of this
It's always another miss
I should just walk away
Its not like you wanted me to stay
It's ok, I won't cry
Just hurry up and say goodbye
The midnight hour is magical.
It is never caught, it stands beyond the reach of the clock's arms,
free of time's curse.
I write at midnight.
It is the hour of eternity, the minute of bliss, the second of stillness,
the moment of muse.
And the angel that
perches on your writing lamp will bend over and very gently,
kiss you goodnight.
Don't mind the scratches
That run down my porcelain frame
Our vanity is as thin as glass
We're shiny like window panes
Don't mind the markings
The grooves my tears form
No matter how broken I feel
I show flawless and reform
Don't mind the sorrow
For it won't be there tonight
It'll be held tight under lace
Tied away in bows; out of sight
We'll drink our midnight tea
Another gulp to forget my woes
I won't mind the words
That are thrown by loving foes
Don't mind me when I break
For I can't hold my frame
Its just another move
In this simple game
Upon a fence running through a pasture in the middle of cow-country, there sits a can of orange soda, which seems to have been there since the moment light bathed the Earth with radiance. Through each passing year it survives blinding blizzards, driving rains, and banshee winds. Never once leaving its post.
A little girl comes to it every now and then, looking as if she'd rolled in fairy dust and mud. She sits upon a beam and drinks from the faded orange aluminum. And says it tastes like eternity.
I remember how someone once told me that citric acid plus sodium benzoate equals cancer. And I share this with her.
She laughs every time, call
A World and a Worm by Katrinadoesntknow, literature
Literature
A World and a Worm
She had salt
Water in her bone
Marrow. Burning her blood
Cells before they have a chance
To escape.
To revive her.
Depriving her body of nutrients.
This parasite is laughing as he
Destroys her from the inside.
What a clever little worm. Burrowing
Himself into the safety the earth. Claiming
He would help fill her hollow shell.
But he doesn't know.
He just doesn't want to know.
That he is poisoning her from
Within.
Safely he waits till the walls of
The shell wear apart.
Before he leaves to find a new home.
Hidden behind the darkness
Locked away from the outside world
Trapped within a dream
The last soldier
Trusted with one promise
An unlocked box
And the key to her heart
Treasured beneath the surface
Understanding her pain
Embracing the shallow emotions
Taking it all in
Wishing for another path to follow
With this dagger she ends it all
Ending one story
And entertaining a new one
Giving birth to its unbridaled conquests
Sharing the grounds with another army
Behind the sheath she stands
Humming her silent requiem
Time doesn't exsist here
Awaiting a revenant's fate
Within the shadows of her own reality
Frozen in her thoughts
Inside this fantasy
It all seems so clear to me
Breathing in the synthetic ectasy
Forever waiting
While the colors fade to gray
True life lives behind the walls
Where their minds are frozen
A fading memory
When my mind is clouded
Stubbling between my thoughts
Happy to be blind to real life
Where the air I breathe is mine
Content with a dying lie
Soothing it's pain
Not having to understand it
Hurting so badly
And loving so softly
Loving everyone and loving no one
Being so willing
With no fear
Doubt is masked away
Covered by the alore of spun gold
And the connection of the favored
You wouldn't ask why
There's too much to
Heaven's Freezer To Hell's Bar by Katrinadoesntknow, literature
Literature
Heaven's Freezer To Hell's Bar
White feathers gently glide
Down like snow
Dancing in the wind hoping
To bump into
Their intricate partner to
Stick together as
They fall towards the
Ground.
Little red tips sinister stains on
These laces of white shredded
From an angelic ice tray.
Hitting the earth
didn't hurt as much as it
Should. But they don't
Mind,
They can
Clump together,
In a sweet embrace
That is used to fuel the drinks in hell.
Demons feast on their polluted taste of heaven.
I cannot begin to count the words synonymous with paralysis.
The sky has not always been blue.
There is a reason that clouds of grey bring discomfort.
Spells of persuasion command a rise in sea level
knowing none can see into its murky depths.
A frozen shroud obscures the senses.
Water of the fountain solidifies on contact with flesh.
Eye contact isn't necessary with vision in the dull point of a finger.
Those who rejoice in the light of the dawn scowl upon its only son.
Patrons of the monochromatic scale.
Voices bound in leather, amplified on steel.
Gilt smeared across lips.
Pupils mimic contractions of birth,
minimal amount of