flyingWhen we used to kiss, I felt like you’d given me the wings with which I could fly. You were helping my heart, releasing it from the confinements of my ribcage. If you took my hand, I felt like giving you everything in return for the pleasure you’d given me. Even more so, just talking to you would make my heart leap, make me smile; make me want to just listen to you forever (even about things I dont understand).flying
But I’m just tired now, so tired of being angry, tired of being forgotten, tired of being put second best even though you promised me I’d be first, and I can’t fly anymore. Instead, I feel like cry
Hold FastShe has eyes, of the purest brightest brown. Skin which shimmers porcelain cream in the sun, and hair that half obscures, half enhances her brilliance. He asks himself if this destruction of her, this ultimate possession, of her is worth it, for all his simpleHold Fast
(and consuming) greed. He wants those cherry pink lips to bend to his will, to form words only he would want to hear. Delicate, tiny hands
should only do his bidding, smooth over wounds from old past tales. Clear brown eyes to only
look upon him with adoration (and only him) to look past his faults and questionab
clouds.I like watching clouds. It’s only something I’ve started recently, or, more like it’s only something I’ve actually enforced recently. The habit has been formed out of a fasicnation with clouds that I’ve always had as a child, inspiration from a character, the idealistic idea behind watching clouds, and the fact that I’ve had more time on my hands than I know what to do with recently. I’ve always noticed and watched clouds in a sense before; I’d point out particularily intriguing or stunning clouds to someone; I always got the impression they were bemused at how I would be looking up, when by all rightsclouds.
college
And welcome to dA!
--
She dreamt in grey.
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