AerithGainsboro96

Solemn recollection walks along the city, as a blanket of pure pearl snow whispers gently from within, while a feverish calamity speaks to their sullen hearts, slipping away from the reflections of silver pocket watches, and eternally streaming an elegant lullaby promising silence.

The crackers sing of grey paradoxical lore, jumping upon the English plates speaking for a lonesome gentleman, perching at the seams of scattered black lace – always perky, swimming in the sea of a fine dining deliciousness, swirling and dangling from the silver bubbly spoons, and never swaying from a chattering matinée from the gentle ladies!

Eyes of grey Mess of curls Button nose Lips unfurl Freckled cheeks Gentle curves Forehead crease Tender nerved Love for life Open hearted Too much at times Trouble started Head up high Feet on the ground Concerned for all Virtue abound

The sound of wings echo in my ears, little birds sing far and away in the branches of trees I could only dream of, they itch at my skin. You said, "No one gets out," and I believe it every once in awhile, watching men cling to cheap bottles and cry for courage in the corners of their aging eyes as I stare blankly at them, saying, "No." Birds don't sing in the incandescents and the neons -- Mother told me that the night is the most alive, but I still feel nothing. The night sky's dead, smothered in smoke and the glow of the burning embers.

The drips of rain reside on a murky shadow, whose face illuminates the forest as pale and cold; the fragmentation of something deep hidden upon the surface, wandering the valleys and intricately entwined within the soil, stark from emotive glimpses and memories of the nightfall, d u s k s a y s h e l l o t o m i s e r y.

Sitting in the tub I can feel the warm water Embrace me gently

 You're beautiful, Wonderful,  Incredible, And I can't believe you're mine.  

you southern belle with your rosy cheeks and round smile, your eyes are the color of the forest my dreaming mind makes up in its sleeping wonder, you're a forgotten memory I've been kindly reminded of, some distant neuron, a stranger spark that pulls, orbital, magnetic charm, your words are the arrows piercing my heart with that stranger still buzz, killed when I remember the distance, by saved when I look again on your face, you're a dream, you're a fantasy, be with me, be with me I could scream, but you still wouldn't hear me, except maybe, by satellite, except maybe through these words I write half asleep, slightly medica

The moon is pale It seems With illness Its gaze is sickly Unfocused Distorted A whistle of wind Plays out against the night With fingers thrumming Out a dirge-- The houses ache With what can only be A biting cold A persistent cough The town is plagued By sickness And churns with nausea-- And all the people sit And sleep With dreams Of health

The flowers dance Beneath a quilted sun, And petals shout regrets To mourning masses The stars are dizzy With their fever; Lights sway drunkenly Above our head The dirt demands A cleaner street, And all the grass Feels shame The world is floating High in the sky With willful dreams And petty thoughts Featherlight footsteps Flit through the wind Leaving traces Of probability And a whirlwind of sound Hums a hymn of daffodils-- Of stars and dirt and grass And everything between.