Cherry CigarsCherry Cigars
You're gone, but I'm still going on.
My caramel toffee eyes are snuffed out by visions of your leftover coffee grounds.
Tears roll like glittering diamonds off my cheeks, tarnished at the edges by dust.
I sit here, a table for two obtained by one at the dilapidated cafe you used to love.
Deep thoughts filtered through by the cigar smoke that fills my complex lungs.
That creaky old 'Open' sign flaps against the spiderweb-fractured windows.
The sound raws my nerves until they are open cysts spilling down my silken shirtsleeves.
Every other drag off the cherry sweet cigar, I repeat the same sentence.
Whispers of quotes that you used to reminisce into my open eardrums, which quaked and burst at every musical note in your tone.
The frayed, grey newspapers that sit piled on that corner booth crackle at me.
Like demented laughter arriving in a box wallpapered with the old poems that you used to keep beneath your bed
Mapping Out The FutureShe waits in the center of a busy train station
Dried rose petals tucked between the pages of her book
Suitcases that whisper of the many promises of traveling temptation
New sounds, new smells, new places to learn and new places to look
Smoothing back the fair strands of her hair, her ring glints in the light
Beautiful rubies on either side of a diamond, two roses beside a thorn
It looks like one that a man would have given her and erases suitors from sight
She fingers it delicately as she reads a book in one hand, a fluttering page torn
It rotates in the wind as she races after it, baggage holding her back
Ending up in the center of it all between a clock-tower and a bridge, she loses sight
Trapped in a crowd, she drifts along with them until she frees herself from the pack
Losing all hope, she is about to turn back around when a voice startles her into fright
A man's silky voice, sparkling brown eyes grinning at her, his guitar case in hand
She sees his fingers extend towards her, l
By TheInkheart (Taylor Michele)
Words dribble down the hollow crevice of my spine like waterfall over rocks
Ink thunders through my veins alongside spindled gold, woven threads entangled with poignant darkness
A heart made of white paper is covered in scrawling words, each letter glowing with the satisfaction of sentences written
Muscles act as extra parchments, coated in ink that slides over skin to form muttered incantations of verbal philosophies meant to rigor the soul back into shape
For escape is the pathway leading from all the pain that the world beats down upon the skin, rain pounding away and supposedly cleansing the skin from its inky chapters, effectively beating the will out of the so-called victim
Dreams captured by boxes without keys and locked into doors with windowless rooms, allowing for one to actually ponder the notion of forgotten memories of unrealistic worlds, of rabbits who could wa
I have left my voice bottled in glass rising upon the tide
My eyes now fall upon the lips of an enemy's pride
Shall I not dwell upon lingering mists caressing your fingertips
Just know that my powers do little to stop the tide coming for you
Drowning is not your worst enemy, my dear
Nor sharks, nor krakens, nor death at all.
Fore' his words may shadow your soul in blatant blindness
Tis what he who thinks only for his own to kindness
Dare to contradict the words falling down from my lips?
I see how you watch me quietly at the stern, curious
Love does not allow for squandering, darling
Your mind must be amiss, he would tell you now
Yet, your fragile sense of safety is solidified when around me, is it not?
Indeed I can see betrayal imprinted upon your turquoise gems for eyes.
Lust is not the worst of worlds, my darling dear.
Since you do not love him, what is to fear?
Their words will wash away into the softest of whispers
If you just follow me into