|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.|
we're all glass bottles.1.we're all glass bottles. by ~Amertie
somewhere, there is a superhero meant for me, clad in a black cape and hope, adrenaline jumping in iron veins.
we could be a racing river, and no dam could ever hold us in. we could be a fire that no one could put out (i'd be the ashes if he'd be the flame), or maybe even a gust of wind that no wall could ever stop.
maybe we could live in a cave, away from the noise and pain, or maybe we'd live in the clouds and eat dreams all day. maybe we could catch fireflies and pray for the lights to stay lit another moment, just so we could finally hang onto something.
maybe i'd learn to bottle my fears and doubts - and then, maybe, i'd break the
dear self,1.dear self, by ~Amertie
tomorrow is not worth waiting for.
sure, there will be sunshine (with
a slight chance of rain) and sure,
some kid will be smiling, and yes,
life is still
but it's not like anyone cares.
you just want someone to love you,
misery and tears and all. maybe you
could spend saturdays curled up
under the covers, memorizing
the patterns of breathing. maybe
you could count the seconds but
the problem is that there would never
be enough, the problem is that
there's nothing there to love.
no one is listening.
i'd write you a letter, but
you'd never read it. i'm stuck
screaming into my own heart,