sometimesthe rocks speakto my bones likelong lost friendsand i wonder whati missed while my eyeswere clamped shut.
ways to describe a dead boy's instagram account1.vacant.it was horribly horribly vacant.the last post (a selfie) was from nine days ago.i should mention that he nevergoes a day without posting selfies.but then again, does anyone?we don't seem to realize ituntil it actually happens; howpeople will be there one day -smiling at you, maybe laughing,maybe arguing - and will then be gonethe next.but dwelling on thingsis something i said i could never do.and i always keep my word.2.painful.you know how when you have a crushon a really cute personand end up stalking them until you can'tstalk them anymore because there aren'tany more new pictures? that's what it feels like.except maybe ten times worsebecause that's when you realizehow his eyes turned a little to the leftand down onto the ground when he smiled,how he pulls pulled awayfrom hugs, how he crossed his fingerswhen looking into the camera lens.but the worst part is whenyou see his hand holding yoursand he's looking down a
ampersand. inside me i have ahundred different stormsblowing againstmy bones.the wind is harsh and the rainis cold, but i standwith upturned palmsin the face of it all. the eye of thetornado is abeautiful thing. to the left is the housei used to occupy butnever lived in, and above mybuzzed out head thepaint is peeling off thewalls, freshly painted, dried andalready dying; a flowernobody cared to water. all the plants around thefoundation areripped up by the things we nevergot to say. i miss youand the way you always told the thunderto stop, but i am nowalmost eighteen (which is very differentfrom freshly seventeen), and i see nowthat all you didwas put a cap on the flood.when the wind drops andmy hairfalls back to below my shoulders, iopen my mouthand taste blood. let itdry.i walkaway.
Dreaming on Apollo's MoonAnother night lit sleepless journeyI sauntered atop a twilight poolIn echoing my reflection waveredSpoke the darkness to a foolThen, arose a void knight in valiant formCulling forcibly the luminous of starsThen, I peered bedazzled at furious swarmSwelling in cadaver like fireflies in jarsIn chaos reign forged ApolloIt's the curse of the azure skyBanishing midnights enchantmentFor the fool to speculate why
Glassyif i waited till the nextthunder storm, buriedmy heart in the sand,and let the lighting strike,i'd have the perfect presentfor you, encased in glassand everything
His wordsAnd if, perhaps one day,His words weigh any weight,They might just leave a scratch
And Then She Was Born and Spoilt It AllThey say, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.True.But sometimes - I'd rather say, often - beauty becomes the synonym of perfection.Either perfection or nothing.Imperfect result is equal to zero result.All criteria must be accomplished, or it all is a flop.There are seven criteria.Appearance.Manners.Brain.Charm.Creation.Work force.Order.There could be more, but I'll stop here.Doesn't remind you of anything?"Please tell me if she has brain pathologies"."Why do you think so?""She got a B. And she knows it well that she must only get As"."I've got an impression that you had a plan of her development before she was born...""Yes! And then she was born and spoilt it all!"Every moment is precious.By the time she's one, she is to be able to speak frequently, and two languages at least.By the time she's two, she must be able to read and write.By the time she's three, she is to begin studying at school.Preferably not with snot-noses from first grade.By the time she's f
Please StayI have to be strong not for meBut for everyone elseI want to cry I want to screamBut few can see my hollow tearsI need you near to keep me saneBut the thought of your pain makes me sadI want to hide and cry aloneBut you are here and it keeps me realI know you say you've left this solid groundBut in my heart you still liveYou've kept me together for so longSo I will stay strong for everyone else
Ticket To God's DeskHi God,I am quite aware you are an extremely busy guySpammed on a daily basis by the hatred of Your own creationShould any of my following words sound a little acid or bitter,I apologize in advance because I know Your job is sometimes one of the most ungrateful onesDear God,I know my cosmic case is no mystery to Your infinite knowledge and wisdomI know you can access my soul whenever You feel it is necessaryDear God,If You check the Holy logs You'll probably stumble upon a 8 year old little girl who was convinced rain was Your tears pouring, and storm Your Anger showingI was 8 the first time I begged You to kill meI never was from here and we both know itPlease feel free to send me Your stellar staff for a soul and mind check-upJust in case something,somewhere could be fixed...Dear God,And in case You would truly hate me...If I really am on Your mf blacklistI am begging for mercyI ask You to leave my loved ones aloneAnd simply erase me so this undying torment of d