heliosiosi

[heliosiosi]

sorry i can't shut the fuck up do you still wanna fuck me

[heliosiosi]

I’m at the end again

I weep and beg for the beginning

The start where I can change my pain

Into something meaningful

So I can learn and reuse that hurt

To fix others

Since there is no hope to fix myself

Why not help others

To stop my tears from drowning me

There are no words apart from ‘I simply exist but don’t live’ to express me

[heliosiosi]

I feel my blood pulsing in my neck.

I can sense the heat in my hands.

Yet,

I still drift,

Not dead, but not alive.

Simply a being.

Left to float and linger.

My dead stare isn’t surprising,

I try to come back,

I long to be human.

I want to feel,

To be loved and love.

But no matter how much I try,

I am still unwanted,

Left                                                                  behind…

[heliosiosi]

starting a story

I fly through the trees, feeling the air pressure change from tree branches. The dense fog feels cool against my almost bare legs, the ripped tights and legwarmers did little to protect me from the cloudy air. The slivers of sunlight glint near my right, I turn my broom towards the shimmer. A large house with a greenhouse-looking roof on one part was reflecting the sun. I chant a spell “Things seen, things unseen, let me walk in between.” I slide a window open and crawl in, finding the room to be a bathroom full of luscious plants tumbling from their pots, towards the seemingly constantly full bath. “More witches?” I wonder out loud. “No.” a deep masculine voice whispers behind me. I jump and spin quickly. A boy, with black hair, and deep blue eyes, about my age, maybe 16 to 17 years old, looked around the room in wonder at my voice. I uncast my spell, and his eyes snap to me immediately. “I’m so sorry for intruding, I didn’t know anyone lived here. I thought it was a greenhouse. '' He shakes his head slowly, “No, it’s ok. Are you a witch? I’d love to ask you some questions…” “I’m not sure if I have the answers but I’ll gladly tell you if you’re willing to forgive me.” I stammer out, shocked at his smooth voice. “Should we go to my room? It’s right next door. It’s rather awkward to sit in a bathroom to talk to a stranger.” he asks. “Of course. Again, I’m so sorry.” I mumble and follow him to a large white door. Inside, his room was painted light gray, band posters lined his walls, and a drum set stood in a corner of his room. A twin-sized bed with dark gray sheets and a pile of folded clothes were pressed against a wall next to a large window covered by white curtains. “Not much color in here?” I ask jokingly “Never thought I needed it… so what’s your name? Favorite color? Do you like sports? How long have you been a witch?...” he questioned. “My name is Helios. I like green, red, and black. I love volleyball. And I’ve always been a witch.” The questions were a never-ending torrent of innocent curiosity and flirty words.

The sky was dark when I looked outside, “I should get going… Thanks for having me. What’s your name?” I say unwillingly. “Xander, my name is Xander. Can you stay longer? Maybe the night?” he asks, almost imploring. “I don’t even have a change of clothes, and even though you’re so much fun, I just met you a few hours ago.” I sigh “I can lend you clothes! And I promise I won’t do anything weird. Just, don’t leave yet. Please” he begs, lowering himself to his knees before me, gripping my legs. “I can stay but only if you tell me why you’re so desperate,” I reply cockily. He looks up at me with those deep blue eyes, “I find you fascinating.” he breathes. My face heats up and I turn away, “I guess I'm staying…” his soft pink lips parted into a grin. “You better.” His teasing made me laugh. 

I open the window and feel the cool breeze. “Bye Xander” I murmur and jump out the window. The air rushed past me until my broom caught me, I hovered beneath his window for a second, then, I flew to my cabin. The pond next to it reflected the moon. Everything was perfect. I was perfect.

[heliosiosi]

I'm so tired of caring. I’m tired of living and crying for everything I care and cared about. I’m tired of wanting and not being wanted. Why am I left behind like a broken stem of a flower? You only take the beautiful and I, the ugly and broken, am not. It hurts to be the one that remembers. They say “hair holds memories.” I cut mine to forget, to change into someone I can no longer recognize. My actions, habits, and looks change, the mirror is not my reflection but a stranger who seems happier and prettier. Though I inhabit this body, I manipulate its limbs. I am a ghost, haunting people’s lives, intriguing and hurting them, 

[heliosiosi]

All becomes dust, yet we love.

[heliosiosi]

lucid dreams are the best inspiration for writing