crimsonbl0od

falling in love with you was like falling into a manhole where everything is dark and dubious and you can barely see your own hands, even when you place them six inches from your face. falling into step beside you was clockwork; a routine that never really did quite feel the same because i looked forward to it every step of the way. falling out of love with you was easy.

(here are a series of things that did not happen) 1. That time in the park at 8.17 am, when the light scattered just so, and made every thing it touched frothy and free. It made us beautiful the way beauty never could be. 3. I wanted to walk this way, and you wanted to walk that way, so we decided that we weren't meant for each other. 5. We were talking about cats, and sand, and freckly skin. Not that our garbled conversation made any sense in the slightest, but that was perfectly fine. It was a lazy afternoon and conversations about life and death and the reason for our existence, we left for the intellectuals. 4. I held on to you li

i. where we dwell under auroras that spell out names and stars and magic that fly into our pockets and stay there until we need it. ii. sometimes i think that if the circumstances were to our advantage, we would rule the world without a hair out of place; i would be yours, and you would be mine. iii. we could be indestructible. besides, where else can you find two beings so perfectly incompatible?

i. i sometimes wish you had the decency to call and ask me how i am, how i've been, even if it's only reason for you to talk about yourself. i would rather hear your voice than not at all. ii. you tell me to dream big and hope little, to fight for what i truly want. you tell me the sky is blue because blue is your favourite colour and you rule the world, not because of the way the air molecules scatter light from the sun. you tell me cats can breathe underwater, that ice melts into sunbeams, that you love me. i never know what to believe. iii. your fingers are intertwined in mine and nothing else matters.

     tall, long shadows        snaking down the sunkissed pavement       of yesteryears    for even the future  does not frighten us;       questions of       who we are       where we are           and why           we even              exist        cease to be--     because             we         are One.

My mind is screaming for release. The rush of blood pounds in my head, fear crawling through every vein. My brain orders my hand to move but it just sits there, as lifeless as a stillborn child. I try to open my eyes but my eyelids feel too heavy—too heavy. I try to move my legs but they are anchored down by invisible weights. I try to scream, but my mouth refuses to open—it refuses to budge. Beneath my eyelids, faces form before me. I try to move my head to look away, but I cannot. All the people I have ever cared for reach out to me with the saddest of smiles on their faces. My mind screams at my fingers to reach back out to them

Walking down the streets of brightly lit cities hand in hand with a man you know but don't-- the squiggly lines of his palms are familiar; rough sketches of tic tac toes helter-skelter across his warm, inviting hand. His wristbone demands your every attention, the angular jutting takes your breath away; could he be any more perfect?-- You look into his eyes, taking in everything about him. His soft brown eyes that are sprinkled with flecks of gold, and the way his nose crinkles when he smiles that beautiful smile. You also take note of the way he bites his lip when he's worried, or embarrassed, or shy. Really, he's still a small boy isn't h

What if my short words are actually long Strings of conversation that Do not want to be threaded out? What if I regret tomorrow What I did Yesterday? What if conversation ceases To exist Between us? When even short words Aren't conveyed any Longer-- Will I fall?

The gentle sighing of the fan (blowing.) Close your eyes &listen to your thoughts shouting at you in silence half-crazed, inane bits of self-denials screaming out half truths/whole unlies. &the crooked crinkles around your eyes and the way you mould your mouth into a ray of light-- Locks of Hair blown by the gentle sighing of your fan. Shut them Up/Down.