• anothershadowbox commented on the post, counselor 21 minutes ago

    I looked into his grey eyes, as they looked into mine.
    He read me slowly. Languidly. A sun examining a storm cloud. Then he spoke. “You will only find your answer if you look inside your soul.”
    I went home that day disappointed. Again.

  • anothershadowbox commented on the post, crumble 1 week, 1 day ago

    the dreams i once own now belong to no one.
    dust is all i tread on now.
    as to not release tears.
    i have given everything i have hoped for to the ashes.
    i say goodbye to the
    i say goodbye to the stones.

  • your hands are brittle
    intertwining little wires of light
    trying to reach the darkness.
    but all it will do is destroy you.
    even though you think you’ll never be complete without it.

  • anothershadowbox commented on the post, weave 1 month ago

    we stole the fates of infinite souls
    and used them to weave the moon.
    spiders hang themselves in witch-trees.
    yet no one sees the threads that connect us all
    and doom us all.

  • anothershadowbox commented on the post, stare 1 month ago

    why do they want to dissect my soul?
    it’s not a frog.
    or a science project.
    it’ll crumble with such mistreatment.
    it’ll bleed.

    look away, seeker.
    look away, or else i’ll die.

  • anothershadowbox commented on the post, intimidate 1 month ago

    we stare at the witch-trees
    as they reach with their cold grey branches
    tainted by moon
    and pluck out our hearts
    our joy
    our bravery.

    to them, nothing is gold.
    there is no such thing as courage.
    it just all dies
    at their feet.

  • the little specks
    of dust
    who live in this wreck
    of metal
    have much more responsibility than they can carry on their shoulders. yet they walk on.

  • sparks imprisoned in stone
    we can never know its color.
    as many as stars,
    as solid as eternity.

  • it trickles down your fingers.
    dances on to the page.
    creates seas.
    it isn’t water.
    water would destroy everything.

    your thirst is slaked
    with ink.

  • old things laid on old things laid on old things.
    every brick that falls
    births a smile
    every tree that burns with electricity
    brings satisfaction.

    does it make sense?

  • then, everything rolls to an end.
    the fires stop.
    the tension fades into a flat page.
    fades to nothing.

    the god of atoms breathes a sigh of relief–
    exhaling motes of ground-up stars.

  • anothershadowbox commented on the post, rage 1 month, 4 weeks ago

    with every tear, the sky sets on fire.
    even the trees taste the brimstone.
    pleading with you to stop is as futile as climbing to the tips of an inferno.


  • anothershadowbox commented on the post, almost 2 months ago

    there is a special place
    hidden in the space
    your fingers
    and the stars
    you didn’t

  • anothershadowbox commented on the post, centered 2 months ago

    i think the whole world spins around my failures.
    does it?
    i think the eyes of many swivel to watch me fall.
    do they?

    maybe i am just a figment of everyone’s mind.
    a mere stroke of paper destined to vanish.

  • It’s on the floor now.
    All the pieces of humanity.
    All the pieces of
    All the shadows of life that danced in the trees,
    all the smiles that ever existed,
    all the hearts you ever touched.
    are gone.

    All because of he wasn’t strong enough.
    All because he was
    selfish enough
    to let the world fall.

  • we trapped the wind in the metal dogs and used it to preserve our lives.

    The airbag didn’t really matter when the steering wheel was covered with broken glass. The glass was left by winter, and the tongues of clouds above.

  • they see the circle of silk and call it a stone,
    they see the silver gilding the trees and call it a reflection.
    this is the lantern that the parents never see
    for they have forgotten how to
    look up.

  • why this word?

    there was a song
    that the ocean tasted in its mouth
    birthed from a thing that wasn’t even

    no one cared for it
    no one knew about it
    but at the bottom
    of the glass that was the sea
    she wept alone
    clutching dying notes to her

  • click.
    plastic is a forboder for the
    whine of luminescence.
    hums in the walls
    hums in the halls
    yet it never hums in my

    i can only turn on the

  • white
    its dust falls like snow
    doesn’t it remind you of the ghosts on the road
    you used to walk when you smiled?

    naivety is your scourge,
    yet it blights you
    and it blights you

    this rubber shall not do anything.
    nothing will.