wanderlust.

they asked me where i was going and i cried never never land

fat dreams rolling down my collar bone and transforming into wings

hanging off my fingertips like dead weight

"think happy thoughts"

the words wrap around me like a python

gently squeezing, gently suffocating

and with this I jump--

because pixie dust is overrated.

Maiden's Bay.

she lashes out at the tides,

ocean eyes drying up in their cracks,

tears dragging themselves away from the edge,

where fluttering eyelashes tear at the wind

it's hard to cry,

she had always said,

with the clumsy wind in your eyes

She's tired of your lies.

forgive me love, 

forgive me, forgive him, forgive us but--

champagne flutes stopped singing love songs

our soundtrack faded into overcast silence long ago

(and that broken red radio needs to go)

it was the only musical warmth you offered me.

Devil-may-care

i'll waste away saturday nights with

insights into how cavalier I used to be;

that instant, perfect moment of insanity,

echoing with silent apathy,

i close my eyes

and the world fades away.

Spring is ending.

. f r a g i l e .

i am her and she is

[ m e ]

and soon my existence

will wilt

like summer flowers.

Author's note: mini collab with juniper

Porcelain.

They gave her perfectly sculptured legs,

and taught her how to walk

in their way,

and

in a way,

they taught her how not to walk,

but rather how to      

r        u        n

yet they kept her from running

"my legs hurt, can i stop now?"

there's a cra ck in her mask

and a hole in her perfectly sculptured heart

stitched together with expectations

"i didn't even know I had one"

Mermaid.

and you're aqua,

b u t

the swell of the tides are never as soft as her breasts

milky-foam chest rising and f

                                     a

                              l

                      l

              i

      n

g

like the gentle ripples

elegance never failed her--the simplicity simply illuminated the night

the crescent moon seems to giggle at you

with a cheshire cat grin

&

who could forget her laugh?

the sweet bells that led men to madness

dragging them under to effervescence slumber

[ my smile is a little  o f f  don't you think? ] 

Masterpiece.

i am fra gile and o p a q u e

but under your nimble, experienced, time-worn fingers i've suddenly

-transformed/bent/folded-

into a work of art

[ just another piece for your gallery ]

Letter 03: Your Parents

To You,

I offer you my palms cupped in a pool of light,

where twilight stars burn a hole in my heart.

Stars aren't meant to be held by these hands

cracked,

with peeling porcelain mistakes i'm sorry, 

drowning in tempted desires and unseen intentions

just another forgotten/hidden/broken/thiswilldo ornament

lavished with lacquer "how beautiful!" and gold leaf

ever so silent, smiling, with tired eyes

telling you how much I love you

(and the pain you've given me)

Love,

your ornamental daughter

Memories.

pictures of you, pictures of me
hung upon your wall for the world to see
pictures of you, pictures of me
remind us all of what we used to be

They said that a camera can capture your soul,
could it capture emotions too?
Smiling faces, crying faces, faces bright with the glow of being in love.
Fleeting emotions, just seconds to fly past, can they capture that?
Can photos hold and protect emotions like a treasure chest holds and protects gold?


If cameras can capture the soul,
If cameras can capture the heart,
If cameras can capture feelings,


and lay all these feelings down in a thousand of photographs,
Then I'd like to just lie with the thousand of photographs,
so that my own feelings can be captured and taken away.




A doll isn't supposed to feel anyway.