Creative Writing
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Watered roots.Misguided freefalls.You have labelled me, enoughwith everything.Pulling you up,while grounding mein principle. I write your name,without signing it,without ever underlining it,since you’ll want to be rinsedfrom this repetitionfrom echoing a purposeless,senseless devotion. A brief smilecomes with clouds,decorating these armswith thorns.One cruel shadowhas us falling close,while we do not repeatthat day when welost our silence.…
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High tides,white sails turn intodepictions of love turnedto something with depth,though breathremains absent. A pair of wingsare yours to soar,high above, while Ifloat or sinkat this fatal brink,losing that visionwe both sharedthrough a pair ofblind eyes. Someone tells our tragedyto review itself,as we long to hopefor another dayto play itself,writing answers to our eyes,layering tears…
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Red underline.A teardrop that paintsan ocean, without color.Someone has neverbeen at your place.A grace, withoutsomething to keep youisolated, in depiction.A beauty withoutsomeone else’s eyesto capture it. A canvas. A strokeacross your cheek, towipe free, sadness I see.Here, you bleed this earthacross, laying stillin stiffest memory. Colors in all you are,except for water in theseeyes, to…
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Tag alongyour wind, tobreathe out thunderclouds,from your lungs.You faltered,in your cremation,willing to burn as a match,as smoke never followed. From fuse to shadow,a long trail extends youto be that shapeat a distance. Can you see yourselfforgetting yourself,within a mirror thatreflects a historyrepeating inmuted heartbeats? I am willing to go onagainst a driving current,while hollow tonguesare…
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Gray sunshine.Fallen hours,like springtime petalson your eyelids.Nothing blinds.No one seesus, in this forest where wepray for insomniato keep us floating. Awake. Always askingbirds to keep singing.On our hearts, sleep neverkeeps anything closed.Neither eyes,nor rhythms of heartbeats,while we let teardropsfall into clouds,staring intodarkest blue. We remain awaketo take our sight,into height. While thosewinters will pass from…
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Most this fogcan ever linger,laying across a desertedheadstone we both share,are thin strands ofthose hopes we prayed for,inside a temple of solemn errors,uncertain love. Most what confusioncan ever bring to light,to a sun thatneeds not to be seen,are what we run on for,to be that someonewe forever abhor. A cruel pair of eyesburns out lit…
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Where petals roam. I canhold your hand towards ceilingsthat land our storms. That ifwe want to breathe, we mustalways keep closed our eyes,always remain still. Keep grief rainingon our bodies. Keep rainfalling on our oceans,while we hold invisible hands,while we hope upon sighsthat our curtains will burn,that our heartswill never yearn. Hide those tearsin these…
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Swollen lips, eyes thattrail tears for second seasonswhere Autumn turns allthat never grew back,into infertile white. Shards from someforsaken promise, to crawlon your knees, sensing thatskies were oceans.Are you open for thosearms, wide in defeatedhorizons? You sense that I willreturn, with a flower to hold.You bleed even withinyour dreams. Sometimes, I willtell you to turn…
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Those long melodiesplayed under phantom surroundings.Open mouths to scream about,closed eyes to block out light.You drifted, while I siftedin these ashes ofeverything around. All those words,written on black stones.Promises spoken, yet unheardby your heart on a pedestal.Walk, if you cantowards an ocean,far from land. I have burned all that can beeven a hopeful mimicry. Graces.…
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What releases,falling into heapsof your dust? I grewthese gardens, for yourrebirthed life. For yourtime to never stop. If you choose to,I will explore other mouthswith their wordsthat answer questions to stars,that drain confusion fromthis floating mind. I want to never hold closeshapeless grey. For years,you have strayed, withoutnoticing these tearsfloating your way. A common sign.…
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Broken twigs,cut fingers,wandering warriorbleeding Autumn into grey.If I led this heartacross unstable bridges,I meant to holdyour shivering hand. What keeps me unifiedin colors of white flags?What keeps me dragging cloudsthat hold buckets of water?What keeps me crying for Neptune,when Mars will war on? You face thosejeopardizing moments,sheltering your shadowsif to keep me at a distance,while…
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Leaders walk,stealing feverfrom broad sunspainting a horizonwith their delicate lash.Some foreign kiss,a graceful reminderthat all light runs lowthrough hollow veins,setting with stains. I can come tracingher marks, without gracingroyal sway on her tongue.She speaks, without movingher lips over me,her eyes searching for answers,her soul drunk upon huesin a monarch’s blues. Crashing dayin those mountains that…
Modern Romanticism 