Creative Writing
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It has been all she’s chosen. With words, she find assurance. Even if a promise cannot be kept, she’ll return to the shell. She’ll return to where what had been audible was first a whisper. She’ll seek comfort in that. Wide-eyed, curious of mind, and with an appetite to want something that never moves, she’s…
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Recreate this stream,brought forth, from areflective puddle,a strained ocean.Relive a lost dream,while believing in its ruin,all over again, in thisreused afterlife,upon memorized agony.Remake an abandonment,blossoming what onewill trust to go down,to fall back to that gate,where sceneries arejust cold blankets.Disguise the serenitywith faded remedies.Wilt what has alwaysgrown to be deprived.Resurrect it, with torchesgrasped at the…
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Another tragedyonce called a hope,as endless as repeated expectationfor morning to return.You could not returnto a world we were guiltyof ever imaginingto be our home,built with stonesthat would come tobe those to wound us.We loved untilwhat was once widebecame nothing but pride.We loved untilwe shared the same veinswe were bleeding from.We loved until weneglected to…
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I have been here,to encourage you tosurrender yourself intoour extensive vibrancy.You’ve been cryingfor a different dream,a nightmare, one of whichyou had no powerto transform it into lightat the click of a switch.You had no meansto turn yourself fromwhat’s been haunting you.Here, I’ve remained,standing where stainsare the spotswe’ll both clean.Come to infinityto seek counsel,to see how…
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Locked within weatherthat deteriorates our eyes,that makes us smileonly when we cry.We been searchingthrough these feelings,seeking some othermethod for relief,reaching for one otherroute that roundsour self-destruction.We wish for ourfreedom, our forgiveness,washing our hands inall the darkness between us.It’s all we can do,while being stars apart,losing tears fromour faces, bound inthese infinite traces,surrounded bythe dust that…
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Which waywould have gotten uscloser, to one another?It might have beeneither way where wemight have ever believedthat the destinationwas worth all ourdecided exposure.What other waymight have broughtour lips closer,to say what we wantedto ever say?Being dragged intoeach other, bonded in rope,frozen with the hopethat kept pages loose,kept words floating.No one wanted to saywe were suffering…
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For stones we surrenderto the depth, of an oceanwe have begun to rememberwhere we drowned,where we were cleansedof pain, of selfish gainin inarticulate aftermaths.It was always timeto let go of the rainwe kept on the inside.It had long been our timeto no longer see the sun,to not blind ourselvesto hope’s shapelessness.We deserved better,though we needed…
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There’s a line to drawon bottomless quicksand,to remind ourselvesof a space to retreat,when pain cannotbring us lower.We must cross it,seeking shelter undera different settingwhere sunlighthas erupted betweenthunderclouds.We must not sink,when we always thinkwe can returnthe light to a void,life back to allwe couldn’t avoid.Escaping from secondswe’ve been turninginto those infinite infinities,when we numbedour twisted fingersto…
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A space had opened,as your feet were broughtdown into an expanse,of murderous, cold water.What can I doother than watchyour form, going underboth rapids and wilderness?I had begun to burya heart into a plotof protected earth.I had begun to concealpainful memories,drawn beautifully.I had begun to fleewhere our stormswere gathering.You were always wantingto pull that plugto recreate…
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It was a black image,wide in its deep serenity.It was an arrowpiercing a forlorn heart,finding that answerI’d never again question.It was a blindnessencompassing two eyes.It had its own storms,bringing on its dosageof bitterness, of uncertaintywhere hands are strivingto remain clean.Love is that essenceto create, to recreatewithout clear depiction,forming shapelessnessin infinite twists.Love is that forcethat forces…
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Seating yourselfacross from me,always well awayfrom hope’s pendulum’seternal sway.You are distancingyour heart, your hopeto find belongingamong dead angels.What a directionto find yourself,in the wind, as identicalto what breath you release.You have exposed the flesh,beneath the featherson your wings.You have waited yearsto fear nothingat the end of a knot.Your neck is whatcan be kissed, while yourthroat…
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If it wasn’t enough tocontinue currents,with no desire tointerrupt rainfall,we chose to drownour faces, in eachother’s arms.We chose to see darkness,burning when we couldn’tfind water to dipour red-rimmed eyes.We chose to never speak,silencing all sounds,before they were everpresent on our lips.Our prayers, our hopeswere given to the dead.Our letters, our promiseshad travelled, had led,had transformedinto…
Modern Romanticism 