@lady-regal / lady-regal.tumblr.com
Piercing blue skies and pearl earrings, smoky laughs and changing seasons. Polka dotted printed blouses, blushing brides in salmon chiffon, smiling from the window as I wait for a sign, waiting for you to arrive, but wracked with worry. I tried not to talk about you, and wrote an album, played for a vision of you as she softly taps her fingers, out of time with the beat, yet again in my…
The flames have been waiting, seated, neat, above a pink candle, with the weight of all my wishes wrapped around her head like a crown of thorns. I never meant to make her the home of my hopes. I just needed a place to escape to, a refuge from my reality, until I had the strength to rebuild, but she gazes, with gentle eyes, forgiveness, understanding, and together, we wish for a day…
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You said you wanted me to understand, and then you didn’t speak for a century. My sweet, suffering paper doll, impossible to perceive, kneeling to worship, worsening and healing, closed off but still feeling, praying for nothing, but still stuck in the routine. Our heaven is a hazy room atop a tower. Flowers litter the floor, clinging to life as I catch your eye, capturing your…
Jewels dance through the sky, owned by nobody, admired by the dreamers and doomers alike, never to be forgotten, never to be seen through the same eyes, always willing to hear me when I pray. Long into the night, of which there will be many, violets fall from the moon’s smiling mouth, endlessly aware that I am thinking of you. All it really takes is a wish, some hopeful, headstrong…
You scratch, and you scorch, my favourite girl, all aflame, all asunder, gathered in my rosey gaze. No good, according to those I didn’t ask, no problem, if I treat you right. Your rage always rains, but your apologetic, adoring kiss is an umbrella.
Grey clouds grow, grasping every part of the sky, but the sun still smiles, because the storm cannot last forever, and one day, she will emerge from the endless shadows, to see me again.
Fenced in, sore shoulders and the headache from hell. Baited like a bear at the circus, jolted and twisted, awoken long before the day was truly born. She must perform. She must perform. She must perform. My throat is wrecked, a home for razors. Broken body, but on I go, under the spotlight, obligated and ordered. Perform. Perform. Perform.
My bed begged me to be blue, frozen and fixed to her soft sheets, adored and enveloped by her warmth as a new week began, and another Monday made its way towards me. I could see her argument, and I could hear my alarm, insistent and quite desperate, and I could feel her embrace, and the trying temptation of a duvet day. A long, laboured sigh was heard, perhaps just in the room, or…
There was a phone number scrawled atop the motorway bridge, hotline to an angel, who couldn’t quite understand, but would endeavour to try. Everybody is trying, and life tries to be sweet, but she just wasn’t made that way, and some days, people find themselves atop the motorway bridge, trying to stop their hearts from racing, as car after car carries on beneath them. Halfway down…
The wind was whispering to me, as the waves watched from below the boat, warning of circling sharks, but I saw only clear skies and serene seas. I crashed below the crying waters, unmoved by their tears, knowing that their sadness would soon fade. I knew something that they didn’t, and soon, I began circling with the sharks, cycling through all the doom filled days, never letting them…
You told me that you would happily die in my warm embrace, and suddenly, my arms were ice. It isn’t nice, but that’s just life, sweet darling, and I’ve been hardened, like honey at the back of the cupboard, unsure if I will ever flow freely again.
Candy gloss clouds, playful pink, parading across the sky, selfless, sending a smile to every passing person, with nothing to gain and no reason to remain kind in a cruel world. The languishing light is tired, but she traipses from her bed, climbing up to meet the soft winds of an autumn morning, and somehow, despite everything, anything feels possible.
I am in a whirlpool, struggling in the suffocating waves, holding onto hope as a hand reaches out to me, but as usual, it just adds someone else’s pain to my sinking shoulders, and there is nothing to do but drown.
Your eyes are split between my own and the pages, turning, whirled by the wind. Our dreams are lost in a flurry, but no words are spoken, and no tears are shed. We read, and read, until reality can’t find us, and as night falls, you hold me to your heart, like I belong to you, and I fall asleep, like I am safe.
I can never go back… They’re all after me. They’re all going to know what I did. They’ll never understand why. There’s no way out for me. There’s no way back from what I’ve become. There’s no way to undo what I’ve done. It was supposed to be an easy job. It was an easy job… until the frost came. I had been working at the nursery for about two years. It was a decent place to work. The hours…
I just really needed coffee, you know? That was probably what all that mess was before. I didn’t have a coffee this morning and so I’ve been a complete mess all day. I’m normally so efficient. Unstoppable. Formidable. Today though? A COMPLETE mess. It’s been a disaster. I have been a disaster! One thing after another. I’ve barely had a moment to breathe, and now, here I am, talking your ear…
