Creative Writing
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Raining onwhat I’ve reined inall I’ve reigned,while losing controlof the surges,disassembling towersto welcome dirges.This is an oceantoo blue, never newwhile its oldnessaccompanies its coldness,floods itself on woundsI’ve left untended.This is a reflectioncoming into aged light,while losing lusteroutside of a vowtaken without awarenessof what’s forsaken.With all hopeI’m losing sight of,there’s never anythingI cannot repeat,like a heartbeatthat
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Our devoted spacehadn’t its worth,going from its straight,decided lineto a compilationof curves,of twists.It wasn’t longuntil we were hangingfrom that prior line,forming the curves,the twistsfrom our time spentin the wind.It wasn’t longuntil we were reusingthe same promisefrom the same story.When it wasn’t longuntil we’d becomemere ashes in the wind,we relit our firefor one more time.We reignited
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It’s a pairof dark eyes,where radiancenever wantsto enter.It’ll intrudeonto her secrecy.It’ll pushuntil she’s fallingover her crafted cliff,diving for painin an ocean.It’s the historyshe’s tracingwith the scars,those that adornher sacred identity.She protectswhat’s mere leavesthat fell from upin her stolen skies.Love can remake her,thunder would wake herat the briefest sparkthat comes closeto burning awaythe taint,the paint that
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It was the push,the screamthat told usour sentencing.It’s too inevitableor outright acceptable,while we’re floatingfor some distant promise,made withouta clinging beginning.Covered in shells,unable to discernits weightfrom the infinite petalswith their absent fragrance,their present discoloration.Cornered in Hell,losing sight of the lightthat let us enjoyeach unleashed breathbefore seeing them turninto blinding fog.I still want to kiss,even thoughall that
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Being brought backinto the twists,mouth wide openexpecting the kissfrom death’s giver.I am hearing a namespoken backwards,while I’m singingfrom a heart,one I didn’t knoweven existed.It has its holes,its assortmentof different lengthsto the scars,being decorations,being remindersof the yearsdragged in tears.If anything will enda life, one thatnever recognized itselfunder the life,that time is now.If everything will cometo be
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A state of reasonis no more,while I change shapein this dilemmaof a heartcaught in wires.Cut me up,let me bleedinto flowing currentsfrom cold veins.Depart mefrom the wayI’ve hopedto always live.I keep returningto the momentI was deprivedof a sense of joy.I keep revivingthe same painthat takes me,to keep me.Crowding these eyeswith what I wish for,helpless in howI
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I’ve been hereto tell what’s old,what’s engravedin such scenerywhere youthis a mere splashto cause the crashof timelessnesson open space.All memoriesare yearnedamid this expanse,this teeming planeof fulfillment.Old flavorsare brought in,to be renewedon swollen tongues,on ancient minds.I will letthe lettersrewrite each other,revealing the wayto blanket mein their meaning.I will providethis aging lifewith its color,with its waterto continue
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Look at the wholeto beholdwhat continues its bold,closest approachto what’s grasped,before it turnsinto the dustthat gets rakedup to her.She’s the treethat loses leaves,that alleviatesher arms,from the weightof clean debris,of snow.An ocean of whitestays still,before her eyes,catches herfeeble attention,before she movesonto the next.The one undoneis her.It is not a worldwhere painis its recreation.She’s a newbornfirst learningto
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I’ll act like it,without the maskthat disproves it,finding out whereI had left offin the echo.I’ll come back in,immersing myselfinside the warmth,the Heavenwhere infinite lightreverts me,reverses me.For I was fleeingthe truth that someonehad kept for me,to someday see.The hour of leavinga shell behindexposes me,transforms me.Sounds surround.It’s enough to benothing I can ignore,everything I cannotanymore abhor.For letters
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One last timefor sentimentto be trapped in,as this efforthas been keepingthis home as hollowas the breathsbeing releasedinto the wind.Exhaustionprovides these lungswith all the toil,as I eventuallyhave staged a retreatback to a placeI won’t be smothered.All will be toldamong the colors,when letters are drawnonto infinite sands.The sun presentsfor a heart,the one that held back,its gleam to
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It’s been our world,favorable, intersectedwith depleting strength,tying ourselvesto the fog.We’ve lost the rush,kept close to the lossof our years,at the handsof our tears.Those mornings,or our mourninghave been draggingthese shadows on,giving us a pathto walk on.Our journeystretches further,along with markson our battered,bruised flesh.Our eyeslinger overwhat’s salient,what’s unsaved.It’s a desperate timewhen being wounded,without anythingto forever treasure.The night
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I’ve lost sunlight,been building sightsto see, to onlyever be able to counttheir distractions.While you have beenwriting your name,withdrawing the shamefrom within me,I’ve been able to seesomething more,someone to adore.Your short walk,to takeoverthe tragic eyesI’ve undressed,heals what I couldn’tcome to address,when alone.There’s the comfortof your presence,taking methrough starlight,replacing the soundsI’ve led through winter.Summer returnsin a startling
Modern Romanticism 