Dream-Love-Write

Satin Wishes In the poor part of town, where the towers of discarded trash of the rich pave the roads on which the less fortunate roam, there once rested a shop that one day would become famed under curious circumstances. In the time when this shop was lush or at the least when it was deemed a gem amongst stones, its windows displayed gowns of satin and silk fine enough to be worn by women that would never see them. Elegant trails in variants of white and blue decorated garments that awaited brides to adorn. The seamstress that made these dresses prided herself on their utmost quality despite the poverty she herself experienced. For she bel

Small, unborn, fragile Coming into existence Abrupt torn from life

He forced a smile upon his face and gazed through the grey, steel bars in his small room. The square outside, three levels lower, was plain and without any sign of vegetation whatsoever. He wasn't allowed to go outside, but couldn't care less about some asphalt-covered plaza. He had always loved nature. The smell of freshly sown grass, the sight of the trees dancing at the rhythm of wild winds and the absolute feeling of insignificance that used to overwhelm him. Nothing would matter, he wouldn't matter. He missed that feeling like hell. Shades of green covered most of his dreams, and it soothed him somewhat that his unconsciousness hadn't fo

i. let's share the loneliness, she said we'll fill our hollow hearts with cranberry juice and pancakes we'll dance, sing and make musicals about our life we'll be the happiest imperfect people on earth he smiled; laughing openly seemed too cynical ii. coiffures and mortgages stole our money, he said we'll get ourselves a barking crocodile to get rid of mice we'll sleep for a million years [and so much longer] we'll call each other names and curse until our tongues start bleeding she smiled; sobbing wouldn't change a thing iii. this is the cleft in being-together-yet-not-really, they said we'll turn musicals into tragedies, crocodiles into r

Cointreau spiked coffee, And long good byes. Though I would hesitate to say, Goodbyes are seldom Good. Indeed, that seems true Now back to that coffee, Spiked with cointreau With disaster spelt across your broken face And the news blaring in the back ground Good evening, Today in the news...   Good evening, Now let me explain, That everything I'm about to say,   Makes me lose faith in humanity. Save you and me, Nightcaps, And words that mean, Everything. and nothing. But that sums up me and you, We're everything,   We're nothing. You were Nothing to me. Good bye. Those words that mean everything.

you are my monochrome tv, my imprisoned freedom fighter, my loveliest disaster you are the reason my lungs absorb particles of dancing air [breathing isn't just a rhythm] light years are only fractions of an hourglass earthquakes silently judge us, we just smile synchronously floating on the petals of our near-to-be unhappy end infinity can never last long enough we us our catatonic love

     Grey skies, thunder claps, the clouds grow heavy and the rain breaks through and falls as if the heavens them selves weep. The soft sound of weeping can be heard as the rain falls to the earth, a boy sitting on his porch with his head lowered under a black hoodie. He wont move, he wont eat, all he does is sit and mumble to himself while tears swell in his eyes. Our Boy wasn't always like this, he once saw the world in the most beautiful way, but now he couldn't care less if the world just ended. What happen to Our Boy? The most beautifully tragic thing on earth....love. A 6 year old boy meets a 5 year old girl,

I need to let you know something. Living without you is unimaginable, Over time you've taken over my thoughts and dreams, Very rarely do i ever think of anything else, Every waking moment is spent thinking of you. You are my love, my life, my all, Only death will separate us, Unless you decide you no longer want me, Seriously though, i know that will never happen, Each of our hearts are joined as one, And me and my heart agree, we'll never tear away. Now read all the first letters.

Voilà! In sight, humble scholarly sweethearts, cast supposedly as both sweet and sickening by the supernatural spectacle of Fate. This synthesis, no mere spectacle of sensualism, is a shadow of the softheartedness once stellar, now slight and scarce. However, this stalwart symbol of a by-gone sentiment, stands soundly ...and has sworn to subjugate these stifling and suppressing souls silencing open sensitivity and stipulate we stop shamlessly showing our sensitivity and sagacious style of affection.

Love; It's like an Earthquake on the ocean floor. It moves us deeply and changes something in us. It fills us with warmth when all the world around us is dark and cold and filled with funny looking fish that glow in the dark. It lifts us up, right to the surface of our being. And as love goes on it just grows bigger and stronger until nothing can stand in it's way.