My words, they are not only for you;
And my gaze, it wanders, too.
My curiosity steals me away,
What can I say.
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
The tears so sudden
Burn my eyes,
Daring to drip,
But I won’t let them.
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
The wind comes in short gusts,
dancing through the leaves,
rustling them quickly,
and causing tree branches
to creak against each other
before disappearing.
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
Her face a ghastly pale,
Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks
And blood dripped from ripped lips.
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
My NaPoWriMo will last two months instead of one xD
How can sad tears
fall from eyes so pretty
and trickle down
such perfectly smooth
and flushed cheeks?
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
Alone you stand
Surrounded by healthy grassland
With your eyelids relaxed and closed,
Feeling vulnerable, exposed.
You let your imagination wander,
But to where, you ponder.
You fill the blackness inside your head
With images instead;
You see yourself standing in that field,
And, feeling the cool breeze pushing against you, you yield
To it, letting your body gently fall to the ground.
With nobody else around, the only sound
Is the wind rustling its way through thick tree branches and
The sweet songs birds sing that you only wish you could understand.
The sun beats down upon your body, radiates off,
And you swiftly doff
Your thin t-shirt, allowing the rays of light
To attack your skin so white.
At peace here you are,
Simply forgetting about all your scars.
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
There’s not much to say,
but that’s okay—
we don’t have to talk all the time anyway.
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
a good writer is someone who creates a structure of words which flows like water. There are no empty spaces. There is no traffic. There will never be an effort of enunciation. It drifts along like a subtle surfaced wave and not once does it crash.
You wander back towards me,
a smile on your face
and a sparkle in your eye.
I fake a smile back
while dully gazing off
in a different direction.
Your arm snakes around my waist
and you quickly eye me
up and down.
I slowly bring my attention
to you who stands in front of me
just in time
as you move your face closer
and gently touch your lips to mine.
The taste, though, is off.
You don’t taste like the man I’ve kissed
so many times before—
you taste strongly
of another woman.
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
You forcefully press your lips against mine,
Holding me close
While I struggle to get away.
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
Bright lips,
flushed cheeks,
big eyes
like a doll.
Motionless,
emotionless,
expressionless
like a doll.
Sometimes thrown around,
sometimes thrown out,
sometimes forgotten
like a doll.
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
I know it’s true,
but I don’t
quite
understand yet
that
you’re gone.
Gone.
Dead.
You’re dead.
You no longer exist.
It was only yesterday
that I felt your warm body
against mine;
it was only yesterday
that I heard your mesmerizing voice
whispering sweet words to me;
and now I shall only hear you
through recordings of the past,
and your body lays
cold,
cold,
cold in the cold ground,
resting in the dark
in a coffin
surrounded by bugs
as your body slowly
deteriorates,
leaving only bones.
(Source: beautifullywrittentragedy)
I promise after this first week of performances is done I’ll catch up with NaPoWriMo
