Armed Only With Paper
Armed only with paper
And pensive looks
Ink in my veins
Blood in my books
Tears staining a blank page
I do not live to write
Instead I find the opposite
When inspiration strikes
More Posts from Crazycrapinc and Others
Thoughts on Beauty #6
Most think that beauty is easy to see, but that is only because they dont try and see it where is is hardest to view. It is easy to see beauty in a rainbow, in a model, or in art. The true test is trying to see beauty in other, less obvious things- a rainstorm, a funeral, a homeless man on the street. Beauty is everywhere, but it takes a strong person to see it, and that is what our world is lacking.
Revelation rides the wind
Like foam upon the waves
And I long to hear
What it has to say
But fear it meaning
The end of us
Thoughts on Love #14
What we have isn't sweet, kind, or pure. It is a red war. I look at myself and I don't see the adoring eyes of a woman in love, instead I see the hardened stare of a soldier. This love is a battle; we will fight, claw, and tear ourselves apart in order to win. But what do we gain? One step forward, two steps back until we are miles apart. Now, I miss the fight- I miss the look in your eyes that would reassure me that you believed in the cause. I miss the expression that confirmed that you believed in me.
how do you feel now? where did you go? was it really necessary that i lose you in order to grow?
Jhené Aiko Efuru Chilombo, 2Fish
You can only know
The phoenix
From the ash
It leaves behind
Thoughts on Love #8
In the waves is the truth behind love. It doesn't burn like a fire, or dance like the wind. Love is the rippling, crashing, rising, falling, swaying, never-ceasing tide which crashes against the shores of my heart. Slowly chipping away at the rock-solid armor which protects the person who has been hurt one too many times.
Your shoulders are littered
With meaningless tatoos
Inky reminders
That cannot be removed
So here is new mistake
For you to wear around
And maybe it will mean something
When i am nowhere to be found
The rising storm
And the tumultuous sea
Of gray and green
Cannot be mightier
Than our love
And the sun
I tremble in the cold
Of December
Yet the warmth
In my heart
Lights up my soul
Like the strands of beauty
On the tree
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