Pure He is the one falling for people, his passion based on countless rumorsblinding out the pure feelings,as his blood pours down, like a stab in the stomach.He is the reason for the sudden stop and turn,as the question why is held, above the banality and the thoughts lying in the pile of blood, as the chest gets gripped and falls onto the floor, the inside exposed.
♥ 76
I feel the scent of grass, but not the feeling of air. My eyes stop on converse. At least I think they are. What? I can’t breathe as I feel some curtain pulling up my body, my skin detaching from my skeleton as my eyes go dry. “Don’t die.” I’m dying. It comes to me slowly as I stare into the four year old eye’s wondering from where she came from. It doesn’t stop me. So what? I have no memories to go in front of my eyes. I never forgave my mother. I never loved my stepfather despite all of his efforts and his love. I never forgave my girlfriend for that fling she had. I gave us both detentions pressing her back then. I feel some sound appear around, muting everything. I sit up, not feeling my body but feeling a tingle of desire upon my lips. I stare at her in front of me, seeing another blurry image. I’m dying. You’re dying, she says. She looks older. I think she does. I see her hair black now-shoulder length, a tuque so low that it nearly covers her eyes. I blink. She’s four years old. “I love you.” I exhale and lean myself forward, nearly dropping my face into the mud, but managing to press a faint kiss upon her lips.
♥ 22
checkeredsky
♥ 65
Red Lace & May
♥ 80
Mouthful
♥ 23
Stars
♥ 41
Sphere
♥ 27
Papercut
♥ 18
hiSS
♥ 60
Realism in Warsaw
♥ 26
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