in the next life you were a phoenix
a fiery resurrection
songbird of ash & second chances
when you flew south for the winter,
you made it every time
see for you, the universe was an olympic mountain
jutting out of the ocean, a temple you would never set foot in
an elaborate maze you'd been lost in for too long;
the only love you'd ever known was from the coalfire
of your father's hands in the dark, they were the most angelic
monsters, they were beacons
his mind was the gears of a clock that never stopped spinning
but the light,
the light was a promise to be seen
the fire, a dancing enchanter that never leaves
the future was an echo on t
there was something wrong with his movements.
he shied away from the audience as if he was
scared,
whilst the music blared from the speakers
as i anticipated
the next trick.
he's not a magician who waves his magic wand
and conjures things in front of your eyes,
no.
he lies through the curtain and clouds your mind
with thought-provoking thoughts.
and then - but then - he talks.
the poison his mouth constantly emits
intoxicates you;
applauding his power and then he gave you a flower
that he hid up his sleeve.
that was him;
mocking the jealous magicians who he prayed would just leave.
that flower bloomed
but wished it was dead,
it was m
Zero is not a size.
Zero is a lack of size,
a wafer-thin waist
where your organs
should be.
Zero should be the number
of girls that hate
the width of their hips.
But I live in a world
where zero is a size,
and nothing is valued
less
than substance.
i am stormborn;
she who dances
with the dragons who
call her mother.
the devourer of a heart
that galloped across a great
grass sea. the queen
who breaks every chain she
sees and will rule over the world
from an iron throne. the
daughter of a mad king who
shall scorch the land with justice.
i am the unburnt.
drakaris—
fire cannot kill a dragon.
bound by a tangled map of veins
where blood no longer chased,
hidden by clouds
that sailed the sky,
the air exhaled to herd the mists
would not return to my cage of life
I sent my shadow
to search the sun and his cloak of rays;
I stole the moon
to journey where darkness built his castle.
and days ran through my weary soul like dancing children
as if they were hurdles barely knee-high
a strand, washed white by the floods of loss,
charged into my eyes, for first they scrambled shut
in emptiness, the unspoken passion that I buried alive,
screamed and rang true
the stars did not falter
as they unraveled the grave
life p
Behind every light,
there is a terrible darkness.
Behind every person,
their shadow looms,
twice as tall.
Behind every door,
there is an unknown emptiness.
Behind every smile,
there are heavy tears,
just waiting to be shed.
On Breaking Apart Your Dreams For a Guy by betwixtthepages, literature
Literature
On Breaking Apart Your Dreams For a Guy
Twelve months ago, we swapped rumors about
the hottest bad boys; counted the number of freckles Tanya,
the Queen Bee of Beverly High, didn't cover with her polka-dot skirt;
and discovered our favorite song on a blog we both wished
we owned. "What do you think we'll be doing this time next year?"
I asked over peanut butter cookies from a bag
and a commercial break between late night movies.
You giggled, pondering, and said, "Hanging out in our dorm room.
You'll be snuggled up to the flavor of the month--
a basketball player, no doubt, or a starving artist--
and I'll be green with jealousy, like always."
When Dirty Dancing came back o