Before the spark In my father’s eye Upon first sight of my mother, I was here. After the tear In my daughter’s eye Upon first sight of my grave, I will be here. Between spark and tear, This life with its walls and roof And floor and shadows, Of my own creation. Soon enough It will be time To climb out from Within these bounds°Shэ.Нδd.Ρφτεπτιαl°
- I remember sunsets and the silent silhouettes along the shoreline.
- I remember the forest full of secrets.
- I remember an unfinished thought; scared and trembling inside.
- I remember the faces that forgot how to smile.
- I remember those hot & sticky endless Texas nights.
- I remember my first day after my life was cut short.
- I remember forgetting how to cry when I fell victim to unquenchable solitude.
- I remember the tears
- I remember so much, yet I have forgotten the most sacred things… , The things that hold us together.
- And that is how I fell apart
Just because somebody doesn’t love you the way you want them to, doesn’t mean they don’t love you with everything they gotUnknown
The sky is an unbroken sea of space. An artist’s brush has painted it something close to empty, a nothingness that lies flat and undisturbed and makes her think of the long corridors of dreams, the hallways that go nowhere yet never seem to end. An airplane shatters the sky, a fist punching through a delicate painting. She’s thankful for the noise, for the arrival of something other than nothing. The interlude is brief. The plane moves out of sight, taking her company and comfort with it, the hole in the painting closing up behind it. Something close to empty.Self
My song will sing in the pupils of your eyes, and will carry your sight into the heart of things. And when my voice is silenced in death, my song will speak in your living heartRabindranath Tagore (Via: Reconnections.Net)
Stop me before it’s too late Though we may be out of time, darling, and the end approaches. I thought I was dreaming, And I would never hit the ground; a moment before the world goes dark, another dawn arrives and you awake. But always the dawn will save you. But it turns out, I am wide eyed and alive, and staring in the mirror, craving release, This is me, and I am tearing apart, falling to my doom, with this broken heart. The ground closes in, my blood runs cold, my heart burns with the fire of regret of wasted years. Stop me, before it’s too late. I think I see the darkness approach, darling. Or is that you? Was it always you?
For the ones who went black
and couldn’t find their way back
because their minds are dark traps
and they insist they deserve the pain
and all that (can’t.be.without).
A dedication to these souls
because I could never save what