Sta.sh
| they all mean something to me. so, please, for the love of everything holy, don't steal them and pass them off as yours. please. |
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i really do believe it. Maybe I will write something sweet.i really do believe it. by ~Corina90
Maybe I will kiss your slumbering mouth, touch tongue to lip and sing of the taste of honey. It would be light as air – cotton sheets and bare feet. It would be nectar to aching tongues and water to the disbelieving. I would spin sugar into words and paint meadows on naked chests. I would dip my fingers into wading pools of hope and wash them over blank canvas, let the dripping acrylic tell stories of tomorrows with eternal sunshine. I would take molds of happiness and press my laughing mouth against the fold of the envelope as I send it onward into the great beyond.
Maybe I will write something bitt
matchstick heart. the tree outside my window is starting to blossom and sometimes I wonder if I ever will. I touch cotton sheets, the grass, my skin, but don't feel a thing. it's not that I think I'm dead inside, but I can't help but imagine that my ribs are kindle and my heart's a match. you see, I have this feeling that one day I'm going to forget to watch my feet, trip and start a wildfire. start an inferno. burn the stars out of the sky until the world is aflame and the heavens are naught but smoke. oh, but I can't stand the thought of burning you down. I can't stand the thought of watching this home you've so carefully built turn back to ash: sandcastle tmatchstick heart. by ~Corina90
dissolving language. words on silver strings that hang from cosmic lights, dipping low into oceanic bellies late at night. they are the type of words the breathe lightly upon the back of your neck, scrape gently against the small of your back. they are the type that causes your scalp to tickle and your calves to twitch, the sound of an echo deep within your clavicle that somehow reminds you exactly of home. it's the type of word that causes you to sit quietly on summer fields covered in winter frost because you're worried that if you move, winter will leave you. it is the kind that presses against the back of your eyelids when you're gently waking and tempts youdissolving language. by ~Corina90
| they all mean something to me. so, please, for the love of everything holy, don't steal them and pass them off as yours. please. |
| stay and watch the stars come out and then the sun as they all fade away i'll sing you every song I know if it will make you want to stay --mayday parade |
Happy Birthday to you...... 
