Creative Writing
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Under tranquil oceans,you were left, to be motionedtowards crippled shores.You wanted anotherto melt you offinto another sentencethat never unfolded. Desiring limping elementsto move on slowness,to you, among sands.Wrapping you into concealment,where weather, binds dropletsin your beaming eyes. Yearning for hope,for a star, never abandoningits dark cradle.A glimmer of something immaculateto move you, through voids,beneath where…
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Bleak waters.Wishing well,where I toss a coinoverboard. I mean tohold you, upon endless sands,counting grains, as you wouldsee that entire oceanas a mere stain. If you could float,if you could come upto surface yourself from tears,to block the sunfrom highlighting your fears.If you will see yourselfin a different light,I can come to bring you this…
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Tears fall fromfire-lit eyes.We have seen lighthousesguiding sinking ships,while we walk in puddlesas timebombs, underseconds that skip. In the fire,never carried higher.Pulling us downin heated embracesto see our reflectionsat an ocean’s bottom. Are we in love,when never abovethis shelter of frostbite,cold burns on our arms? Hell has causedour mutual loss.Burned imagesin a captured memory.We are…
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All of thishas a black ceiling.Your arms, curved shadows.Your shaped scars,straight, to that momentwhen you sentenced me todeath – of your oceans,blinded underwater,to keep darkening. Never shallowme. Never wallowwith me, whilemoons drift. A series ofreflections, from differentphases in thisplace of bitterness. I will never removethese portraits from thatdelicate background. Whatrises, from straight lines?I will remain…
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No sadness. Empathyhas remained a cruel uncoveringto artistic pain, beneath smog. To those inventions, of burning oil,setting flame to our skin.It lets our skin become sand,crafting our sands into mirrors,when pain regrows from grain. Endless tide,countless cries, once heard.Here, we always ignoreour choking sighs. Storms are under oceans,sands are infinite with stars. Fragmented lovenever grows…
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Hold thosefrozen tokens,those cold stonesaround your nakedthroat. You always spoke,while never listeningto what rain everbrought us, together. Life has a different noose.Tongues are tied, slipping.Knotted, while loose,inside your eyes, where hangteardrops that never let go,as we are arrangedin each other’s arms,as stark shadows. Life has a different place,where morbidity becomesclarity. These heartbreakingsymptoms we will cherish,while…
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I choose toconceal us, behindcurtains, mirrors,letting shards dig inwhere wounds were oncerevealed, in those fires. Smoke grows,blanketing us ina certain degree ofdarkness. When yourlips were fruit, I chose totake you down from a tree,to drink from you,my closest naivety. I choose tobury us, beneath fog.Under crimson daylight,where red lips weretorches, blood of smearsin a nighttime…
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Nose to skies.What comes down, first,to hold your discarded hand?You have sunk your soul,feet first into crude terrain,driving your windswith music, with rain. Those who have failedto gather you, to rememberyour face under a sunthat dimmed enough forstorms to come, have neverbeen haunted at whereyou were severed. Red-circled eyes. A strandedblossom, left in a burned-out…
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Strain, our waytowards those bottomlesscliffs. We have held ontotears, meant to fall,have told our hearts toremain unsealed,upon that call. A few grains stuffed awayto discover new days,countless as all others.We continue to fade.Our shadows scream fromwarmth, withineach other’s arms. Blank pages.Torment that always stirsin those tides being blurred,grayed, into morningovercast. Will weforever recall what wenever…
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Sometimes, to hope forsomething small.A word, a taste from rain,whether bitter or sweetto contrast this deafened statewhere thunder cannot be heard,where heartbeats cannot be felt,when sleeping underseeping downpours. I once connected youto these white sands, countlesswhen attempted to begathered, for security. To wrap you in arms,before you slip betweenthese cracks in me, these fracturesthat keep…
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Clashes to solve,with more to dissolveunder swirling tides,where bodies were formlessbeneath bottomless cloudsdrifting in our heads,connecting muted soundsthat we eclipse. Thunder races. Lines aretraced where wecan see. Our oceans cross,like tears that burn overpallid cheeks. Contours aredrawn around our bodies,formless, while dancingat an ocean’s floor. Above, those waves areflaming where we hadtold farewells. One little…
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These soundswill hurt. Betweenpauses, I still rushto recede you backto me. If I do not pull,you will push. You willforce me to turn aroundto see a shadow. If words hurt,verse will burnholes, in yoursenseless heart. Leak your eyes,echo those criesto deafen this worldinto another silence. Something keepsreturning to keepyour eyes settled for sleep,dreaming while you…
Modern Romanticism 