cookiesandcream1995

Leave my eyelids tucked beneath my skin. My hair, refrain from moving each individual strand, for each is as warm as the blood running under the bones of nine suns. 'Bottle it,' you say, 'Bottle the heat and let it bleed across your lips.' I prefer the breeze, however. I prefer freedom, and not encapsulated fright. You spiced sections of my fingers, left them stained with patterns exotic. Your lips never touched my body, I could be a cardboard cut-out of your muse and yet, you would feel nothing. I am still myself. And after the final preparations, you placed a single Lily of the Valley into my arms, and a daisy chain into my hair, now distur

She began to desecrate the pages today. Dabs of midnight fluid smeared over with a metallic pinhead, and the musings of a thirty-something took place as memories faded with time. Every minute; every moment was something to treasure, something to realise before it became lost in those sheets, constantly shuffled around against the pulling tide of early-onset dementia. Another blot, delving into the drying jar she spent so much time fiddling with in her childhood, an heirloom to document; to stain against the pages of a modern-day Scheherazade, something for the story-tellers to fly into, taking their minds off at the door and wiping their fing

I like hearing the wind chime, gusts of heretical nonsense blow twixt the shutters. Clouds swirl unlike a storm but a finger dipped into the heavens, in love with the idea of a chaotic world, heat-spun and sticks breaking bones. Leaves stick with humidity to flushed cheeks, closed lashes crack against a shadowed back - eyes flutter to sleep with the cutting of a whip through air. Damp soil wafts 'neath nostrils, barely floating in the space where our worlds collide.

strung-up broken heart branches carry the pieces the wind buffers the nonsensical wails from dead twigs and white wings thrown the chance to break this, i would if the strength kept me in a stranglehold and cracked my mind open to accept two more nights

A Bohemian princess shuffles underneath the undergrowth of a metallic modern world. Sits down in the middle of her mind, and her belief holds true holds the world together - Kora, as smooth as a wave, with hair softer than the sky marks out her destiny in the stars, and floats her body across the Water of Life.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm too far gone. That I've jumped too far across the line, that my ears have become deaf with disbelief. Have I sunk too deep far too quickly? Have I swum so far away from you that it's easier if I drown than wait for lighting the flares to be rescued? Have I bled too much, let these scars sink further into my skin, into my muscles and etch themselves away to the marrow of my bones until I snap, scream out and run with a thousand sins to my name? Would you forgive me? Would you tell me it's going to be alright, that tonight isn't the end of the world - like you do every night? Because it's nights like this that I belie

i live in the kingdom of a seashell, with a nautilus as my hound. a spindle tibia as my unicorn, my house a volute to keep me safe and sound. but when the chariot rises, a war cone crashes into waves on his mighty miter route. i only wish my murex weren't out tonight, flirting with slit shells instead of holding me tight.