I can make magic with my eyes closed.
I can sing underwater.
I can complicate your marriage.
I can hunt dragonflies.
I can invade your silent thoughts.
I can wash the blood off your coat.
I can drive a stick.
I can conquer demons.
I can whisper to the moon.
I can twist.
I can override your request.
I can plant cigarettes in the ground.
I can melt an AK-47.
I can do all of this plus I can do the splits.
I heard the birds chirping
and I became enlightened.
Off the heads of peeking worms,
through the thick of mud soiled to
carefully stepped feet,
the song of the day was my scream
inside a barrel.
I stopped numbering the days and
wondering if the sun still shined.
All this time,
what I hadn’t known
or didn’t want to believe is that
people died because God didn’t
make hearts indestructible.
I’ve been writing so much in the last few weeks. In the beginning, I wasn’t sure how I felt about sharing my strange, random thoughts through poetry and short stories. But I can say for certain that I feel grateful for the views and likes from my small following!
You are appreciated. And I mean that sincerely. Thank you for reading. It makes a girl like me really smile.
~shesneon
Seasonal allergies. We all get them. And so, discomfort is expected. Even the bloody noses. This is integral, in fact-- You're supposed to bleed and wander with your head tilted back. If the dark circles around your eyes are an indication of loneliness then just sleep. You're supposed to be exhausted. Inhale fast enough to give oxygen for the nosebleeds but slow enough to burn the part of your throat used for swallowing. If this is easy, you don't care. Cry into tissues 'til they turn sour, this should hurt. Every ounce of you should feel rotten. Your knees should buckle like molten rock and your hands should callus over. Isn't it what they say? This is just like the nuisance of seasonal allergies.
Life isn’t boring
Just shut your eyes
And let your dreams play.
andthelightsdontlie 