ahintofmousandadashofstache:

Forgetting is the

hardest thing; but ev’ryone

else is good at it.

Can I paint anchors

on your brittle toes

And cracked palms to

keep you here with

Me?

It’s a wonderful feeling

when you can turn off the heat;

Air, sun streaming in

when you peel off your sheets.

-

My skin can be warmed

by the tumultuous glow,

or possibly frozen by

Your heart’s snow.

-

You’ll never comprehend,

my dearest friend,

what’s under my fedora

and what makes me bend,

-

With sickly sweet tulips,

all dressed in pink.

It makes me quite ill

just to think

-

And breathe in all this

nonsense and worry and woe;

Tell me right now:

Is it time to go?

-

But you couldn’t say,

(your tongue had been swollen)

And my eyes just grieved

for what had been stolen.

-

From their crooked grasp,

lashes spread wide,

Her face dipped

below the tide.

-

Never to be remembered,

(or to forgot)

Despite being disliked,

she was liked quite a lot.

-

It’s a wonderful feeling

to eat up the sun,

Light fills your stomach

when all is done.

-

Perhaps if she had

partaken in this scene,

She would not be caught

in the in-between.

-

Why give and go?

Why not just give?

Or possibly just go

so she could still live?

-

It’s a wonderful feeling

to smell of the ocean;

For you I swoon

when sniffing your potion.

Take me down to the valley

of screams and shouts,

where the rivulets run uphill

and kisses are made with the

forehead, with absence of lips.

My eyes are bright with attention;

my lips are rough with misuse.

Cracked and bleeding are my knuckles

from the cold, biting air and your

stuffy atmosphere. Tell me what

you desire so, in your heart of hearts;

Stop making this so difficult, because

I cannot taste a drop of oxygen

on my tongue when I hear of your

convoluted scheming.

Take me down to the valley,

that nestles between two mountains,

lovingly held in a braided-rope cradle

and twirl my gentle ringlets.

I despise not knowing the truth of

everything, and I wonder if hoping for

you is going to be worth it,

Worth the wait,

Worth giving up the best of

myself.

meetyouatthecrosswalk:

When you look to his eyes

Do you see a glimmer?

a spark of passion?

all the world?

your own reflection?

or do you simply see his eyes?

so purely blue

as clear as the sky

after a summer’s storm

where he held you tight

like an unyielding statue

but soft, warm, and comforting

or did you dance under the grey expanse

weaving between powerful columns of light

and life drops from the sky

Do you see joy?

I want to know

For all I can fathom

Is the sweet, salty sea

deep and endless

I lose myself there

get short of breath sometimes, too

as if I was more than just metaphorically swimming

But he always holds me there

(I don’t doubt I hold

my now shallow breath)

staring from my eyes to his own

where the forest hugs the ocean

and waves crash inside my stomach

as butterflies invade his own

and his blood screams to meet mine

nothing can stop us now

Do you see a future?

because I don’t

I hope mine has already come.

-Lioness

(Source: ahintofmousandadashofstache)

meetyouatthecrosswalk:

If you can’t have everything…

(I grasp at the hand

that is no longer extended to me

slowly it glides away

seeming to have no care

only thoughts of love

but not for myself

only another

some other hand

with nails pink and shined

not black and long

jagged with nervousness

and peeling with pain

under the chemicals

they are just the same

as the simple as the white rimmed ones

but he chose the other

with the silky dyed hair

too perfect

if you ask me

but he won’t

he never did

just his own version of play

that was all I was

nothing of value

or worth, or merit, or…

Nothing.

That is what I am to him

That is what he must be to me.

the hand is barely visible now

joining with the other

and my heart goes cold

black to match my

fingernails and untouched hair

no one can enter now

It is a stone harder than diamonds)

then why try for anything?

-Lioness

(Source: ahintofmousandadashofstache)

meetyouatthecrosswalk:

She might go Crazy

but that was the only way

cant you all see?

it was all just too much

she had to get away

there was nothing left of her

when they all just up and gone

her shreads of sanity taken

she watched with a silent mind

and a weeping heart

leaving not even a trail of dust

for her to watch fade

I wasn’t like this before

was I worse?

even possibly less

no one broke her

the poor shattered thing

she had left to the place

where faries might save her

reality was just too harsh

it was all too much

cant you see?

that was the only way

she did go Crazy

-Lioness

(Source: ahintofmousandadashofstache)

meetyouatthecrosswalk:

Dust to Dust

what a silly old saying

as if dying

did not lead to decay

Dust to Dust

more like Fertilized egg to Rotting corpse

although that is not

quite as poetic as

Dust to Dust

though I wish it not, it is

just a saying told by fathers

at a solemn home

Dust to Dust

how much simpler it could be

battlefields would be clear

hospital beds more open

Dust to dust

what is dust anyways?

but the particles that

dance in the sun’s rays

Dust to Dust

I almost wish it would be

Then my dust could become

dust greater than my own

-Lioness

(Source: ahintofmousandadashofstache)

meetyouatthecrosswalk:

He wants to forget.

there’s nothing you can change, now

You have to forgive.

-Lioness

(Source: ahintofmousandadashofstache, via wide-eyed-lioness)