Beautiful Distraction
written 22 October 2012, 3:00AM - 5:04AM
Let me hide my face against your sweater
Curl my body into yours one final time
Let me feel safe in your false security
Hold me close, pretend that everything’s fine
written 22 October 2012, 3:00AM - 5:04AM
Let me hide my face against your sweater
Curl my body into yours one final time
Let me feel safe in your false security
Hold me close, pretend that everything’s fine
To bed in all my glory, so that I may rise in it again. I cannot will away the aura of glamour. I want to live in it forever.
written 17 August 2012
She shadows too close in the Parisian night
Her breath on my neck a chagrin delight
The guilt I bare begs for her to leave
But she knows too well and will not be deceived
She’s aware I am ruined, reparations denied
Deftly she finds the empty places inside
Tears escape as resignation holds fast
So weakly swayed, I fall apart in her grasp
The victimised daze she deems advantageous
Whiplashed from my stronghold in a fit so outrageous
Mercilessly I am grounded, released
Though I can’t be assured that the anguish has ceased
My crying is met with a pool of blood
Springing forth from about an unsightly stud
Cutting in deep where there lived no pain
Now the fragmented piece on the floor remains
Work of the divine, it was famously known
But what disregard, disrespect had been shown
This accident the work of a deleterious slayer
My intention assigned: to find the betrayer
Chasing the truth just beyond my fingers
Like remembering a dream that ghostly lingers
The shards a catastrophe from long ago
The nefarious work of my greatest foe
Sanguine précieux glistened ‘cross the floor
But I couldn’t be bothered to care anymore
Immobile perhaps, but the mind still pacing
Desperate to know what history’s erasing
Truth be told all memory is deceiving
One cannot know who or what’s worth believing
But when realisation strikes, it comes without question
Savoir-faire takes control far beyond mere suggestion
I abandoned my love full of doubt and despair
Knowing neither could flourish sans the other there
But she returns to me now to applaud my swan song
And to show me precisely where I forgot I belong
The bond once broken by artist from art
Is guided to lips by a dedicated heart
The lasting vow resounds so sincere
“pour vous je serai heureux de mourir”
The epitome of perfection stepped warily towards the newly affirmed couple. Alarmed by the situation before her, the young girl wasn’t quite certain of what she wanted to say first, for there seemed to be so much to ask in this heightened state of peculiarity and in addition to such, the awkward silence—one that felt as if it could be cut with a knife— contributed in alliance with the stillness of the brisk forest air to set tensions high. Pausing directly in front of her caller, Pearl gazed admirably into the woman’s dark, loving eyes. She distinguished the presence of a beautiful spirit that was unfamiliar to her in all the seven years she had known her mother.
Beautiful day makes beautiful people.
written 8 July 2009
We eagerly arrived to the busy building Tuesday morning. The duties of the day were surely to be less than exciting and they later proved to be rather alarming as we found ourselves in frequently in the way of danger, but this didn’t matter—it wouldn’t stop us. We knew what we had to do—there was no choice in the situation; we had responsibilities. That in itself was not enough to motivate us, but it served as the perfect guise. The true reason we went, the sole reason that we were looking forward to this day was because we would be together. Spending time in one another’s company, even though we couldn’t really talk about whatever pleased us or have time alone, was worth all of this. It was the only time that we could see one another. We had no excuse and we lacked time otherwise.
[My] new goal [is] to be magical.
written 8 May 2005
The dark night sky held a sea of stars and was covered with a light blanket of puffy clouds. The streets were silent and the outside lamps shone a bright light. The Jackson family filed outside and into a black car. The youngest child looked up into a nearby street lamp and squinted at the garish light.
The forbidden [is] so incredibly alluring …
written 17 November 2006
