Sta.sh
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Crimson LoveMy heart is broken, beaten and battered
Shattered like the most delicate of glass roses
It lies next to you in your bleak and desolate grave
The solemn hole you fell into when you took your final breath
Our life was sound, our love pure
Then we watched our walls come crashing down
As fate intervened in the form of reality
We heard the death clock's chilling chime
I'm left forlorn in this tragic world
I try to live but all in vain
It's not living without you
All that's left are my memories, my illusions, my delusions
The ominous blade, a reassuring friend in which I trust
Glistening with the tears I cry for what could have been
I
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PainlessThrow a rock;
throw a bolder,
throw me in a river.
I feel painless.
I feel fearless.
I feel careless.
I love you,
I miss you,
I need you.
I understand clearly,
that maybe it will never happen.
Never, just keep reminding me of that.
I understand clearly,
if time is your test,
it'll always fail.
I'll always fail,
you'll always fail,
we'll always fail.
Life will always fail.
My love will always stay.
Yours will disappear.
Shake it off, and live tomorrow.
Shake it off, and keep breathing.
Shake it off, and keep your broken heart beating.
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My MagicWe watched you grow
We watched you learn
For a family we watched you desperately yearn
We watched you shrink
We watched you brave
The entire world we watched you save
We watched you laugh
We watched you cry
Happily we watched you learn to fly
We watched you dance
We watched you fall
We watched you drag your friends through it all
We smiled and cried along with you
With every moment, we were there too
And now the struggle has come to an end
So to my little cousins your books I will lend
Harry the hero, Harry the great
Everyone wishes she would write a book eight
Harry and Rowling both taught me:
Children can be heroes too.
A Taste Like BurningIt's funny in a way
Though a moth knows better,
It's so engrossed in the light;
Warmth provided by the flame
It will fly right into it's heart…
I've always found it sort of strange
Even a moth having it's wings burned
Will still spiral toward the flame…
I've always thought it odd,
The moth loves the flame so much
It would do anything
Just to be near it;
To touch it only one time.
Even if that was the last time.
In spite of the natural order,
Where moths are meant to be with moths,
And flames breed only more fire.
Regardless of the perils,
Showing no fear
Even when I know
You are destructive,
Like poison straight
Paint the RosesAnother night stalking sleep with poison arrows. She cries and cries. All the mirrors that were once her friends are broken. Shards of glass litter the floor of this empty house. Bloody footprints lead to the bedroom where she sits on her bed with a knife and bloody wrists. "Perfect. You have to be perfect." These voices whisper lies to her. She shudders and her wrists flirt with the sharp edge again.
'Roses. Mom used to love Roses. Red ones. Red like blood...' She lives in her memories. Parents. Friends. Teachers. "No one will know." They told her. "No one will care." Eventually if you hear a lie enough times you start to believe it.
'Rose
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And a little information for your benefit...
Sleep Disorders Project (and a detailed list of known disorders)
Sleep Disorders Project (and a detailed list of known disorders)
`Mishelangello
Aug 9, 2011
~Joane
Aug 9, 2011
Hobbyist Traditional Artist
I love it.
