Awake
I live out
these beautiful dreams,
yet why do I dream
of terrible nightmares?
A♭
I played
symphonies
of my love
for you,
when you
could hardly
touch a note
in return.
I love how this photo came out.
Cycles
We were strangers.
We were friends.
We were lovers.
Now, let’s go back
to where it all began.
Going to start posting more of my photography, I want to be able to track my progress
Just because someone does something personally towards you, doesn’t mean you have to take it personally.
Her words
birthed poems
which captured
the photographs of life
I didn’t know
I needed to see.
your mind
is a gallery
I want to get lost in
I peer into the pages of my life and read the pattern of mistakes I’ve made; over, and over, and over again. I’m not reading a fantasy saga but a series of horrors within. Tales left halfway finished, conclusions never read; I’m plagued to make the same choices, always filled with dread.
“See your story through,” I tell myself, “let your life unfold.” I want to see what lies beyond the climax, to see what stories I haven’t told. I’m hoping these tales of horror were just the prologue to the fantasy epic my eyes have yet to behold.
antiguy reblogged
Smile
The world and its people
were her canvas.
She’d add to the beauty
before her eyes
with paintings of
smiles and happiness
onto other’s faces,
yet she couldn’t
do so
for her
own.
antiguy reblogged
Alone
Looking back,
one person pieces
numerous memories,
every experience together;
life was full of times,
yet still felt empty.
Lucky #22
Finding myself
in solitude.
Flushed feelings
down the drain,
boiling anger
coursing through
my veins.
Aching,
hurting,
crying alone.
Suicide is
never the answer
...
but I don’t
even feel at home
in my bones.
These fragmented feelings felt furiously foul.
6 Word Story #71
Alone
Looking back,
one person pieces
numerous memories,
every experience together;
life was full of times,
yet still felt empty.
Smile
The world and its people
were her canvas.
She’d add to the beauty
before her eyes
with paintings of
smiles and happiness
onto other’s faces,
yet she couldn’t
do so
for her
own.
Broken
Bubbling water boils in the trench of his stomach. Frustration paints over his eyes with cherry red likeness. His body is racing with activity inside, but still, he feels as empty as an outgrown husk.