Don't Fall In Love With A Writer Just because they will bruise your neck with pearls of metaphors; and splash palettes of colours onto your chest with reckless waves and boundless twilight. They will smear ink onto your lips as you kiss them because that is how they leave hickeys. They are wildest in their 2 a.m. diary, and liveliest in book racks of novels; they have butterflies in every heartbeat and they breathe living poems. They leave trails in libraries and coffee shops like Hansel leaves crumbs in forest and they have undying lovers because every love story is ever living in their abyssal oceans of analogies and similes. They know every cliché like the sunset knows the moon rise, and every wound in their heart like blood in their veins. They are terrifying because they weave you in splinters of fires rolling down their cheeks. They are weird because they don't smile much but sometimes you could catch their smiles in poems or tales. They are psychotic b
selenium hand grenadesI.
neon lights and cigarette-flavored
lips together, hands buried in the leather
pockets of these never-lovers, these
cinder block hunters made into
cinders: only frostbite breath and
army jackets to keep them warm.
retaliating right angles are the ones
that angels can't compose; we are the sharp ones,
destined for single atom collisions and never
fitting, never getting quite close
breathing in the years like the clouds
of your breath,
dressed in cocaine ribbons just to shine
like plastic diamonds, damn all this fucking
estuary sand and this brackish
taste; this former age of elocutionary
sins is forever gone -
cars as coffins: the mud will take us in
as family, and drag us out to sea
with vows that mean more
than paper tongues ever will.
flying is not a synonym for falling.i. do not rise gentle from the cautious dawn.
you were born a blank piece of paper;
you etched your stories into your canvas over time.
the problem with being paper is that
you're not the only one
who can choose what you look like to others.
they glue on labels over every inch of your body.
from hair to skin to intelligence to weight to gender,
they can determine where you'll go in "life", how many friends you have, if you'll end up a whore or a prude.
they cover your pure skin with scars and bruises and graffiti,
and your fragile airplane wings become too heavy with the weight of words to fly.
they tell you to do this, and that,
to go eat a salad, not to be "fat"
they'll tell you that it's alright.
You're Not Dead Yet.You have been called "ugly."
You have been called "weak."
You have been called a "failure."
You have been called all of these things.
But at least you're not dead yet.
You've still got your life ahead of you.
You've still got all these years to cherish.
You've still got a lot to live for.
You might be on life support...
...but you're not dead yet.
All these years you spent in isolation.
All these years you hide away somewhere dark.
All this time you think about the odds.
But even while that appears to be the case,
You're not dead yet.
You have cancer in your whole body.
You have mesothelioma and bronchitis.
You have six days left to live.
You're running out of time.
But you're not dead yet.
Look at what all you've done with your life.
Take a look in the mirror.
Tell the whole world what you see.
Believe in the fact that there's an afterlife,
Because you're not dead yet.
'Cause I got mine.
HomeNever forget where
Move only when you see an advantage and there is something to gain. Only fight if a position is critical. - Sun Tzu -</b>
Dare to Be!!!
"...there is no righteous path. It's just people trying to do their best in a world where it's far too easy to do your worst." - Castiel, "Supernatural"
On the inside, I'm quite old.
My passion is getting the most out of every minute.