midnightvalkyrie
Fingers deft
flow over keys -
black and white
monochrome
classic.
That of timelessness
found in a remote college
the rustling of leaves as applause
and an audience of stars
to perform for.
Don't blink.
She's a mirage shimmering in the distance; the temptation you desire as lust seizes your throat. She weakens your voice of logic, growing smaller and smaller for every step you take, stumbling forward. Hopelessly, helplessly (in love).
Don't blink, or she'll be gone.
Hope flares, a candle you thought was burnt out at the end of its wick. Yet how deceiving is this type of hope. You squint, trying to keep her in your vision. Her form shifting, ever-shifting, like the sand at your feet. You lick your dry lips with a sandpaper tongue and mutter a few incoherent words. What was that? You have forgotten. All that consumes your thoughts are her. Her and her vices. Her and her siren song and her wicked smile and her painful beauty. She is the alluring beck, and you are the obedient call.
Don't blink, or she'll be gone, along with all her promises, forever.
You walk up to her. She still feels distant and unreal, like the trick of a light in which only the darkness of logic can dampen. She stretches out a hand and you go to hold it, to touch her. But the wind snatches her away, howling with laughter, along with your cries of mercy.
You blink.
Worries peppered into daily lives
stirred in with our scrambled eggs
as we sip on our morning coffee -
our third one for the day.
Sprinkle a bit of anxiety in there too;
shifty eyes and fidgety fingers.
Such is the life of an individual
that is no longer an individual,
but just another bar code,
a set of serial numbers
bred and branded onto us
by society.
What I wouldn't give
to hold the attention
of the one
my mind occupies
Vacancy; closed
Greedy Ravenous
Ignorant
How you consumed
my thoughts
unawares to the
resulting heart break.
It starts as a growl, persistent and rumbling within my ribcage. It wants to get out, warning me like a volcano before it erupts. Then it comes, sudden and forceful, with a roar that makes me want to cover my ears and clutch at my heart. It spills out from me, all that was life pouring out of my body and pooling around me like blood. I don't even utter a sound. I'm unable to. My breath is caught, while my life flows around me, spreading away. I am drained and empty. The golden warmth that once filled my heart has now been replaced by a hollowness that only a book with its content ripped out and leaving it useless would know.
I stood back and narrowed my eyes at his major work. They were a series of snaps, some taken with a digital camera while others were Polaroid. Some black and white, others colour. Yet they were the same picture, but not, just like how a person can be an individual but also part of the mass crowd. It was a swarm of motions and movements, rushing hither and thither, making me breathless.
She taught me how to dance - how to pirouette in the night sky, leaping from on constellation to the next. She allowed me to develop flow like water over rocks, overcoming their obstacle gracefully and without fuss. I was swept up and paused to arabesque like the leaves which twirled and stopped in a flurry in the summer humid wind. She taught me about the art of dancing as well as the art of life.
He is /such/ a tool. I never did want him. All I wanted was the controversy and the gossip, spreading like wild fire over the tabloids.
Gosh! And to ever think that I was interested in the poor boy. Ha! He’s so pathetic he’s gone delusional. Me, a courtesan of the highest order, to even glance upon the makings of a peasant. The thought disgusts me and causes my stomach to turn. I flip the card over, the scrawl of his declarations of unrequited love dedicated to me. Sighing I threw it into the hearth, the flames engulfing and greedily licking at the paper immediately. It wasn’t my fault that I was so loved. But oh, how it suited me.
The steps seemed steeper than usual, almost like they were sloping downwards as well. I was scared I would trip and fall down, branches scratching me and the concrete scraping my skin. It would be worse it my arms thrashed and I managed to pull someone down with me. Taking a hesitant step down, I felt the uncertainty in my sweaty palms and praying thoughts. I took it one step at a time; one foot down, then the other on the same step so they were joined on the same step. The adults groaned behind me and I felt bad for taking so long. The staircase was narrow so could only fit one person on the way down. Down, down, down. Oh gosh, I wish I didn't have claustrophobia right now.
load more entries