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"We'll be the universe, a goddess, a queen, a friend. We'll be living our lives one day and smile, knowing the stardust in our veins lit up the dark sky of others." - things my soul says to me as I'm about to fall asleep

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NOT A POEM

I would like to personally thank Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett, and the Amazon Team for stealing my soul with angels, demons, witches, antichrists, and Dog. What a fucking pleasure.

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Forevermore

You took my heart And promised me That tomorrow you'd set me free Yesterday is over now But to you am i still bound I heard your words Inside my soul Promising to let me go But every night you sing to me How much I truly mean to thee "When rain won't fall And flame won't catch Then you and I'll be put to rest Until that night, stay in my arms You'll be with me until the dawn When the sun won't shine And the moon won't glow Darling, then I'll let you go Until that dawn, please don't cry I will learn to say goodbye When the sky is grey And the earth turns black Then maybe you and I'll go back To when the day was as before And I'll be with you forevermore."

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Me: Everytime i go over to my friends house, i get super motivated! I can't wait to see what I'll create next! My mind, at 1 am: build a library on Minecraft Me: what about a poem My mind: A HUGE LIBRARY ON MINECRAFT THAT WILL TAKE A YEAR TO COMPLETE. N O W.

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me: *gets touched by random wave of sadness*

me: so, this is what poets of Romanticism felt

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The first song he sang

She turned away 

Laughing at the boy 

Who was giving his heart

To something so wild, it couldn’t possibly be caught. 

He sang to her again 

And Again 

Always giving her his heart 

Always coming back 

As she watched the scars that lined his fragile soul 

Grow deeper 

But he never stopped loving her

Despite the pain. 

Again 

and again 

and again he sang 

Until one day he stopped

And she received the awful news

How his body was found with the others 

In the battle across the land

And how his final love song 

Was written in words 

That were now in her shaking hands.

And she realized 

That it was better to have a foolish boy’s love 

Than the love of a long-dead man. 

A Litany of Love Songs

I write the title, you write the poem, reblog I’ll respond :)

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He wasn’t human 

Not one bit 

He wore skin well, you’d never know 

Unless you touch him

That his skin can’t possibly be human 

With so much power under it 

that it sets fire to the poor girls hearts

that fall for him. 

He isn’t human 

His flesh isn’t composed of carbon, like ours 

But something older than us 

Something that made him 

Horrifying 

Yet beautiful 

And that was what was so deadly about him.

Flesh Inorganic

I write the title, you write the poem, reblog I’ll respond :)

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Her Diary

i.

I knew her

not by the taste of her lips 

or how she felt wrapped in my arms 

though God, did i wish i knew 

what that felt like. 

ii.

I knew her 

by her fears of forgetting 

her friends

family

lover 

or worse- 

that she’d be forgotten 

completely wiped from the small scrap 

of existence 

she called home. 

iii.

I knew her 

by her joys 

how at fifteen 

she kissed a boy 

who she thought tasted

of autumn. 

iv.

I knew her

I knew her deeper than anyone else 

because of her elegant cursive 

found in a diary. 

I knew her as she grew up 

Cried when she told me she was sick 

v. 

I knew her thoughts

her heart 

her mind

and it was impossible not to fall in love. 

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She was Heaven

With her lulling peace 

And quiet whispers 

Of times long past.

A mystery many didn’t dare unravel. 

She was Hell

With her powerful energy

Broken screams with salt embedded deep in her throat

And a temper 

That could destroy an Empire.

And to the navigator of her depths

The sailor who read into her heart and soul 

And stayed

She was perfect. 

Write a poem about the ocean. But…DON’T use any of the following words:

beach

ocean

sand

sea

waves

blue

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Alone

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He was a mighty god,

Black magic hung on the edge of

His tongue,

stars, were tied to his fingertips.

Deer antlers, sticking out of

His messy head -

He thought I was the one

Who waltz into his spiderweb

Oh sweet, arachnid!

Venom dripping from his

Fangs -

My mother always told me

Love was poison.

Sweet, silly, God-like boy

Little did he know

I’ve been a God Devourer

Since I learned how to

Weave poetry.

That I, am half-girl,

Half-monster -

He held me as if I were fragile

And for a moment, I forgot

My mane.

Kissed me, as if he wanted

To get drunk on the stars.

My body became a trembling vessel

For his ghosts to vacation

In my shadow.

I sighed, and he whimpered.

And in that moment, I think I saw

Heaven, dancing behind his eyes.

So, with passionate hands

I took my mother’s scissors

The ones she used to tie my head

To my body, with ribbons

And I lovingly, longingly, drunkenly

Cut off his

head,

and later

found my heart, crushed like torn rose petals

laying, 

beside him, on my pillow case.

And I couldn’t help but think, they looked

so much, like

blood.

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time // 2.10.2019

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Too Many Hearts

Too many hearts are inside me- they know much more than I; they have stories to tell, each one, and all I have to tell is mine. My past and my knowledge they guide me, my emotions they sing where to go. Others don't know where a place is and they're happier not to know. But give me a place, a time, and a date, and I promise you one or more of my hearts will pop up, take a sip from their cup, and tell you a story (or four). They can sing of destruction as their tongue becomes weapon and they harmonize with the bombs that deafen; and my little heart, though never in battle will ache like that pain never lessened. Perhaps they would sing of emotion of love that is stronger than mind and when they get to the verse about finding soulmates I can feel my soul looking for mine. I know about things I possibly couldn't since I've never been given the time, but I feel older than me and feel deeper than sea back to when Time was mine.

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Cannibal

The stories you hear of shipmates gone mad and sinking their teeth in, ripping the flesh apart- They will dance in your head when his kiss is so rough you begin to wonder if you'll survive this cannibal or enjoy your own demise (Answer: You won't; you will.) The stories you know of vampires in the night will come to you then as his teeth sink into your neck and his touch draws bloodlust and hunger from you. It is then you'll know why the taste of human flesh is so addicting to us.

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“Sometimes, you just need to stop wishing for things to happen.” he calmly said. “Instead, start doing the things you think you can.”

Hey there, my little star // ma.c.a

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