×

Words are easier to loveI found little notes
hidden between the
pages of novels
I only bothered
to read once.
Young poetry
and secret crushes
filled the slightly
discolored notebook
paper of a lonely girl
with veins that
pumped a writers
blood—who built
a cage around
her own ink stained
[ h e a r t. ]

corruptin the hazy heat of flip-flop tans and
denim shorts, he

discovered himself written on the inside of her
milky arms. burying his heart in
pretty lips and push-
up bras.

(purity soaked in the ink of his name,
what a sin, oh what a shame)

immurei know lips don't live

they dance,
and i know

burning,
your lips living
would make me speak
not hum
into ash

as we don't argue
or banter

but boats
we wander, we rock
on seas of one another

and we are the uncaged
naked birds
making up lips

Under the RainI'm shivering silver tonight,
one part sea glass and one part saltwater tears;
painted blue by the storm clouds
that send their shards dancing
through your hair,
the color of spilled ink-
and shadow.

My palm is pressed against your cheek,
because only the heat
of two beating hearts
can save us from hypothermia
this far past midnight,
and I'm the only one who can touch you
without watching you break-
like the rain.

Your forehead is tilted into mine,
as if you can't hold yourself up
without this girl-
the one whose thighs are still scratched and bleeding
from crawling through the brambles
you raise up around your heart;
an

evanescent.
he said
"i want to fly,"
and those dreamer eyes
were golden with ambition.
but when he jumped,
nothing broke his fall.

so now he lives in the
moments between the blink
of an eye.
shadows sing him
their lullabies,
but sky larks no longer
cross his path.

she said,
"i want to fly,"
but she was too afraid of
falling-
now she sits on
the sidewalk and
wishes
she still remembered
how to dream.

i want to fly-
but what if
my wings
are not enough
to hold me up
in the sky?

are your dreams as
fleeting as mine?
resting in
the fragile nests
and wings of a baby bird,
afraid to take
the first step-
afraid
to fall?

it will be a glorious brevitylink fingers with me, star-girl
twist your memories with mine;

together, we can breathe life into photographs.
locking fists around beating hearts,
(staunching old wounds, tearing new ones)
and bleeding color into black and white.

together, we can knit ourselves a story.
the past and the present; caught click by click,
between flashing needles and highway miles
torn under our tires.

together, we can taste the sky.
tatters of blue catching in our teeth,
and clouds;
slipping down the arches of our throats -

we'll call ourselves the sunset-eaters, the dawn-devourers;
we'll burn holes in world's stone places -
(the graveyards an

remember the stardust.if you'll be my star
i'll be your sky
and maybe together

[ we'll both learn to shine ]

take my hand
and we'll dance
and we'll fly to the moon

[ oh darling i hope that we'll rendezvous soon ]

spin me round
through the black
and the dust and the stars

[ i wonder sometimes how we ever came far ]

fairy lights
heated nights
where we lay in cosmic glow

[ the galaxy is ours to hold if you didn't know ]

pulsing eyes
baited breath
here we lie in endless space

[ our love that ebbs and flows in a world without embrace ]

oh star in the sky
sky in the star
take me away to
wherever you are

i miss what we had
i miss endless shine
i

Live ProudToday was the last day I'll ever let you step all over me, telling me that everything about me is wrong. Look, I love you. I really do. It's just that, sometimes, I wish you wouldn't pick and choose the things about me that you'd love; it's like ripping a few pages out of a book and insisting that you loved reading that book; you'd just prefer those little sections weren't there. So you'll ignore it, won't you? You'll pretend that that part doesn't exist. (The problem is, the story isn't complete without those sections...)

Today,I'm going to ignore every statement you make about me that pushes me down, that tries to rip integral parts of me

impossible
i wish you
would see me
the way i see you.

mischief managedWe're laughing behind library shelves
leaning in until our foreheads touch;

"Hey." you smile.
"Hi." I say, and I kiss you, quick.

You ask me what my favorite book is;
your hand on my knee,
and dust dancing (elegant in its undesirability),
through the sun-strokes
pouring down.

"I don't have one" I say, trailing my fingers
along the shelf at my shoulder, gathering dust;
and breathing it into your face,
the way I did with dandelions
when we were children -
(we're in the biography section,
because those hundreds of stories of other people
make us feel insignificant;
and you can't star-gaze
at noon.)

"Why not?"
I smile, k

trigger metrigger me, baby
i'm your gun
watch me spill blood,

look for those
thin red ropes
round my wrists,
corsets incarnadine
to my elbows;

how many ways
do you want to die?
hold yourself
down

in the water, baby
i'm not quite human right now
i am the june moon
in that i am too big
and too full
and too bright;

i am hunger
i am lust
i am want want want you
back in my arms

let every day be friday night
we'll turn off the lights
and fall together
like pieces of the world.

Painting Without ColourLike fire hiding in the
deepest trenches of the ocean,
her stomach's alight with a feeling
like helium. When she takes a
deep breath, she wishes she could
exhale all of her fears, but they are
engraved on the curves of her
bones with the symbols of angels
and she's never been able to
grasp faith.

Somewhere in the golden-dusted
corners of her mind, hope lives.
It whispers to her, it taps on the
door with sound like a sweet melody.
Her voice breaks when she tries to
sing anything but a melancholic tune,
and the sewn-together pieces of her
heart stretch tight and threaten to
unwind with every note.

Wishes like

oxygenate.breathe.

she smells like mint and floral perfume, and when he buries his face into her hair, he catches a whiff of honey-scented shampoo.

he inhales, lets the mix of scents overpower his senses before breathing out with a soft, drawn-out sigh.

her scent lingers in his nose even hours after.

his lungs are on the verge of exploding.

she smells like sweat, heady and potent and he reels back for a moment, overwhelmed.

moving forward, he wraps his arms around her thin waist and presses their bodies together, relishing the soft gasp that falls from her lips.

he takes a deep breath, and the taste of salt bursts forth on the tip of his tongue.

Answering Julietjosephine –

dreamer-girl, barefoot-girl,
you are the eldest of july's daughters
and I can see you, like all the boys do;
lying on your back on the dock with your eyes closed –
long blonde hair trailing off into the water.
You're a beauty, josephine, a soul-snatcher
with a smile like a string of pearls;
each tooth a grain of sand where it doesn't belong,
plucked from the pooling tides.

saul –

even in childhood, you were a man
born grown-in to solid shoulders and white-blue eyes;
a fisherman, maybe, or simply a sailor -
dredging lobster pots up from the brine.
You smell perpetually of sweat and summertime and

from stardust to -let's dance. you and me, and all the lonely people –
        like it's the eve of the revolution that's about to change the world,
        and all you can hear is the song of captivity.
we can touch the ground and we can touch the sky,
and perhaps the wind has never felt so free, but dancing -
        oh, we'll dance in the space in-between.
and they'll sing as we waltz across infinity, about you, and about me,
        because nothing makes sense,

Browse More Like This

More from ~masvida

Day Four: 7 Things on My Mindi. I don't want to live with any more regrets

You know who you are, I think. But you'll probably never read this, either. You never really did like to read what I wrote. (You told me that it reminded you of your heart). It's a pity, because you have the heart of a poet and the soul of a dancer and I'd never ask you to change but then you did. For her. You changed into someone so completely different, and you know what? So did I. I regret becoming so much like you. [You lied to me, starboy].

ii. His eyes

Yeah, it sounds soooo generic, doesn't it? but this isn't that cliche "love story", nope. His eyes, my memory of when he looked at me and

Day Three: 8 Ways To My Hearti. Be yourself

I tend to fall in love with real people, with people who don't try to hide their flaws, but instead embrace them. I want to know who you really are, I want the truth and not some fixed-up version of yourself that you thought I wanted to see. I want to see you. I'll find your heart beautiful because it's not covered up. (I can't say it's as wonderful as it is if I can't see it, can I?) I can't fall for a fake, an actor, a hollow model of who you wished to be. I want a real person, can you show me him?

ii. Be confident

... Even when you're not. (But it's okay, you can be honest and say you're not). I like people who are free w

Day Two: Nine Thingsi. I can't stop

It's true, I really can't. The way the world fades to swirls of color intermixed with the confused emotions connected with each design, each picture, each dream... I can't stop moving, going, going going going on forever because everything is pumping me full of energy that I just.can't.hold. There are days when I wonder what it feels like to truly rest... to truly be at peace with myself. It just seems like a total dream right now, in this neverending adrenaline game.

ii. I believe in second chances

I believe in second chances, simply because you don't deserve them, simply because {given the chance} you'll make it deserved.

View Gallery · View Prints

Featured in Groups

×

Fade

by ~masvida, Jun 17, 2011, 8:54:44 PM
Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

the undone notes of beauty are
f a d i n g
in the silence
as she looks out the window.

it's dark out,
it's way too dark,
but then she begins to see.

she sees only patterns,
s h a d o w s
flitting in her periphery
and scaring her.

but this is just-
like every other night...
she reminds herself.

there's always morning, but morning
is when the demons come into focus
[and sometimes the blurred images are safer].

sometimes

the inability to touch
_{the glaring eyes}
and the inability to hear
_{the sharp words}
is a relief.

so she sits patiently
and listens to the silence
as it explodes

into a chorus
that only she can hear.

538

42 39 8

Fadeby ~masvida

Favourite

Description Details Share

Download HTML download, 952 bytes

Dark, light. Both are enemy to the human mind.

Details

Stats

Submitted on: June 17, 2011
File Size: 952 bytes

Views: 538
Favourites: 42 (who?)
Comments: 39
Downloads: 8

~~joy 0 0~~

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

*KJ-Illustration Sep 1, 2011 Professional Digital Artist

_{Hi Your beautiful piece has been featured in my August Feature: [link]

ps. Please (in the left-hand-corner) the article to spread the love and attention if you enjoyed it (:}

Reply

~masvida Sep 3, 2011

thank you

Reply

*KJ-Illustration Aug 6, 2011 Professional Digital Artist

_{Oh my... I truly loved the picture you painted with your words, your imagery is really strong! Wonderful}

Reply

~masvida Aug 13, 2011

Thank you so much!

Reply

*SpiritDuchess Jun 23, 2011

I like how you think. This is good.

Reply

~masvida Jun 23, 2011

Thanks =]

Reply

~Th3Chos3nOn3 Jun 18, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

_{Nice to see you trying out poetry, and not just prose. Tragically beautiful. You're one of my favorite writers dear.}

Reply

~Th3Chos3nOn3 Jun 18, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

_{Nice to see you trying out poetry, and not just prose. Tragically beautiful. You're one of my favorite writers dear.}

Reply

~masvida Jun 19, 2011

Thank you SO MUCH! You're so sweet

Reply

*meka7heaven Jun 18, 2011 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

This makes me feel. I approve of this poemn and I like your style as it is emotional and dark.

Reply