|Because maybe dreams can come true.|
talentthere is no time, only clocks, the wise men saytalent by Chibi-Shuriken
and we had no clocks to mark how long it took
for my heart to become acquainted with yours
perhaps i will wait for the person whose
fingertips have ridges that fit mine like a puzzle
but until then, give me your hands.
consequencesThere are consequencesconsequences by Chibi-Shuriken
to cheating Death
(as I have done).
He will tax you for
each day you live:
"A meager fee, for another
chance at Life!"
yet over the years he
will bankrupt you.
Never among the living
he treats you as his waif;
mind numb with lethargy,
joints rotten with inflammation,
he sings your requiem
to remind you
of his Second Coming.
Half-dead, Humans blame
you for your condition
when all you wanted
was to be one of them,
just a little longer.
|If you'd pay a visit to the rest of my gallery, I'd appreciate it.|
vacant.Look at her; shes a porcelain doll with never-ending milk legs all stapled to the bed, thirteen years young with forty-eight years suffocating her figure. Hes right up to her baby lips, offering cigarette breath and grinding his stubble on her cheeks, it reminds her of gravel and she closes her eyelids as it falls across her neck, inhaling the cloud of dust.vacant. by Pretty-As-A-Picture
The curtains are draped across the sky, dried blood red casting shadows she cant tell the ends of. A dim flicker of a light and maybe a filter of moonshine illuminate the crevasses of his eyelids, forehead and awry mouth. His skin tastes of sweat and earth.
She was with her father in the afternoon, sharing his eyes and wearing the yellow dress he bought her. He was a quaint man who studied birds and told her she looked like a canary; he bought a voluminous cage (from the very same balding man he sold her to) and kept her in there at nighttime.
And now, three oh clock in the morn, the balding man has her; hes
|Katrina | 19 | Female | Photographer | Digital and Traditional Artist|