The Heartstring LineThe Heartstring Line
Aka Taylor Michele
I walk the heartstring line,
Always string thin and fine.
Balancing my way along tear-soaked sorrowful blues,
Dancing through shimmering yellows and satisfying pink hues.
Gasping my way through bitter tears along greens,
Terrible visions of loss and heartbreak clouding my dreams.
The drop down is a long one, silent and still.
Blackness at bottom from which there is no thrill.
I cling to my line, a tightrope to my red heart.
Which goes fast, stops, and stutters with his every part.
Like a play, we go through these different scenes.
My line like an anchor keeping me grounded to the very seams.
A red cloak like a fan blowing on the flames,
I call out achingly his beautiful name.
A slip in my step as the air turns green, and I start to take a plunge,
As deep, dark blues flare up, soaking up my panic like a sponge.
Sometimes I must stop and recover my spirits,
Tears pouring down m
Cold CrashCold Crash
My pulse quickens as I stare into the desolate silence of salty water.
Mind speeding along at one hundred miles past the latest hour.
Avoiding potholes, speeding over bumps and crashing through stop signs.
The clock dongs at midnight, but no confetti is left falling at my feet.
Crashing mind swerves to avoid the cracks in the road.
Lengthening and widening with every earthquake heartbeat.
The pool of salty water grows the more I stare at it.
Willing it to become a well in which I can throw a penny to pay off the debts of my sins.
Eyelashes quivering, lips tightening, hands clenching over the steering wheel.
Glass shattering everywhere, pinpoints of pain that burst through my fears.
Light crashing through, sucking me out into the reality of this world.
Ejected, I fly through the air towards the brightening light.
Instant PhotoInstant Photo
By Taylor Michele H.
You and I are an instant photo.
Black and white as the day and night,
Passionate companions who may sometimes fight.
Captured in essence with a single click,
The camera frame can't contain our tick.
Tick tock, tick tock,
Clock rolls over to the twelve and just stops.
Endless and boundless like our love combined,
A depiction of our everything defined.
Yet the geometric bruises patterning my skin,
Map the spoils you placed upon my heart within.
No bruise left by your desperate desire could be considered harmful,
Any pain brought upon me is naught but a blessed bite.
Like a Ying and Yang, our traits grow twofold in differences,
And yet we attract closer than magnetic inferences.
Lips cutting through breath, like a horn in the fog,
Both our desires rise up to battle like two vicious dogs.
Yet, my timidness and your sweetness are unparalled in art,
A kaleidoscope of colors dancing even when left in the dark.
Spirals of pleasure wrap ar
TheInkheart on DeviantArt
Tranquil waters flowed down the crevasse of her spine.
Slithering over her delicate, petal perfumed skin.
Beading up and rolling off the edges of her faired-haired strands.
Dropping onto moss surrounding abandoned lagoons.
The only onlookers are the birds and the sweet honeybees drunk off nectar.
All alone, a voice like the promise of liquid honey and rolling thunderclouds, of smooth velvet and dark hues.
Breathing in the rolling fog, eyes lifting to see the veil of clouds part before the sun.
Streams of laced light weave between the mist, drying the tears off her rosy cheeks.
Waterfalls resume as she releases the pent up breath of a thousand gales of wind,
Plucking up lilies as she rises once again from the underside of the water world.
She is Siren.
The Water Maiden has Returned.
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
I know you're scared,
And I know you're blue.
But, trust me.
I won't hurt you.
It's no secret
That you hate my friends,
The Crystal Gems.
You think they're a menace,
Something to fear.
But, I promise you.
You're safe here.
They won't hurt you,
Because you can't hurt them.
I wish it wasn't like that.
I don't want to hurt you,
I want to be your friend.
I've come to notice
That Homeworld doesn't know love.
They think Garnet's an abomination,
And my mom's a traitor that should be gotten rid of.
When really, they're just Gems,
Like you and everyone else.
They want to do good for the world.
They just see from a different perspective,
Just like you.
Earth isn't bad.
Sure, some things can hurt you,
And some people are mean.
But, it's a beautiful place,
At least from what I've seen.
You must feel trapped
Without your tools
To keep you from
Losing your cool.
But, you don't need them
To be yourself.
You'll do just as good
As anybody else.
Just please understand me.
I've felt fear
Forgotten HallsAn ancient, sprawling maze to me,
Familiar as I grew;
It housed the rise of many
And saw the doom of few.
Never did I stop to think
Of those that came before;
All I saw was my own path,
My own tracks on the floor.
And now I see it once again
Its age making it new,
Strangers faces alien
The air of nineties, too.
I stood there when they tore it down,
Laughing with my friends.
Not once did I stop to mourn
The era come to end.
I'll Wait by the WaterThis is the place where our memories began.
A creek at the bottom of a canyon,
red cliffs on either side and a giant
pond dam to the north that wildflowers grow on.
Paths that we created through the woods
and up and down those copper canyon walls
while we pretended to be wild Injuns
or wanted outlaws being hunted by a posse.
You were on your knees,
in the middle of the creek,
when I found you.
A neighbor girl, trespassing.
I had a mind to chase you off
until I asked what you were doing.
You looked at me, smiled, and said,
"Catching crawdads. Come help!"
After that day, we spent Springs and Summers
building fort walls and chasing frogs,
skipping stones and arguing baseball,
sharing comic books and trading punches.
You could hit as hard as any boy I knew.
We had our own bridge to Terabithia,
our own kingdoms of knights and castles,
won the World Series with back to back homeruns,
settled the Wild West and discovered gold in the mountains.
My parents thought you were imaginary
until I bro
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
How to Live in 2015Be born. That’s the easy part.
Beg for new toys or take someone else’s.
It doesn’t matter. Being selfish as a child is normal.
Being selfish as an adult is normal.
Get dirty. Stop taking everything
so seriously. You’re going to die.
Don’t worry, everybody does it.
Don’t fall in love, love is not a hole
to fall into. Run into love, headfirst.
Bite your tongue until
you can taste the word no.
Give away your secrets under a pseudonym
for someone else to sell.
Chop off your arms and legs to pay for college,
realize tuition rates doubled.
Get a degree. Find a job. Hate your job.
Find a vice. Keep it closer than your breath.
Find God in an alleyway.
Lose God like a set of keys.
Die and be reborn as a memory.
Die and be reborn as an afterthought.
Die and be forgotten.
TapestryThe morning is a tapestry...
tripping over last night's grace,
I watch you weave your skin
and shake out your hair -
soft teal and jonquil
shadowing your cheek
as the curtains part between your hands.
Threads tangle as you turn,
dawn is a gentle lover,
and the tumble of birds
plaiting their soft notes
lingers on the pillows
where your smile is my undoing.
an atheist's prayerdear god,
i planted no tulips in autumn
and no tulips came in spring.
how silly of me, then
to mourn the empty garden,
to long for fields of amsterdam,
to kneel at night in cold dirt,
i’ve learned there is
a certain ache in lacking
a thing never had, that small itch
whose relief is two seasons past –
so god, if you can hear me,
know that i am homesick
whose name, like yours, i know
but whose flowers i cannot see.
OC Meme*Copy this into your Meme..
-Choose 10 of your OC's
-Answer the questions
-Then tag 3 people
1.) 3, 7, 4, and 9 go ice skating. What happens?
2.) Its Christmas!!! 5 throws a christmas party and invites three people of choice. Who does he/she invite? What happens?
3.) 6 catches 2 dancing/singing to the 'spice girls'. What's 6's reaction?
4.) 1 and 10 are stuck in a janitor's closet. How the crap did they get in there?
5.) 4 confesses his/her love for 8. What happens?
6.) 3 walks in to see 6 and 7 making out in 3's closet.. What is their reactions?
7.) 9 and 5 have an argument that soon turns into a fist fight. How did it start? And How does 2 try to break it up?
8.) 6 and 7 are getting married! But 8 is in love with 7. What does 8 do?
9.) You here a knock on your door. You open it to see every one of your OC's bursting in to your home. What do you do?
10.) 2 admits to you that he/she killed 9. What do you do?
11.) Everyone gat