much like reading an old book, not the same but similar. She still looks for the same things: a bit of shadow and a little fluff in the same way the morning is darkest just before dawn. But she no longer believes in the same things. She’s spoiled herself and read the end — been the end — and the end of the story was not animated by Disney. The lily white turns yellow with age and the paper breaks more easily now, after being wet by rain and forced dry by her hair dryer: again and again and again.
There is a novel she reads every so often, with the heroine being her and sometimes not her but the ending remains to be the same: oh so tragic.
You make me want to write about you; you and her; your hands and her skin; your nose and her lips; your chin and her neck; your arms and her hands — five couples dancing on a stage of lights where the world is red and the dark is made of flickering lights.
You make me want to listen to you; your steps as hers trail; your lips’ silence that overpowers the drumming of your heart; the intent your eyes whisper until you close them; a love song your fingers sing as they intertwine with hers. You make me want to listen to your secrets.
You make me want to live like this is my world; three minutes going on five; five going further and further, stretching time as if blurring it will turn seconds into eternity. Ribbons are fragile things — you cut them and they break, and yet you keep on holding onto it because it’s tied to her.
Red is the color of passion and of love. Red is the color of blood and of pain. Red is strong and it arrests and it blinds and it is raw and powerful but red can fade or be washed away that when you open your eyes…
[688 words] [PG] "the devil follows me day and night, because he is afraid to be alone." - francis picabia
He sits on the floor and she is there, right across him. He listens to the rhythm of rain (it is weak but since the last storm, a single drop of rain had never been so ominous) but a single twitch of her finger diverts his attention from the sound to the shadows.
"I want to go away so badly..." she says as she remains curled on the cold, marble floor.
I've been gone so long. I miss Alex and Edward. :( I reread some of their escapades together, with all that banter and dialogue going on, and I want to see them alive again. I usually make characters in pairs (Alex & Edward, Dark & Wednesday, Nero & Lenus, Robin & David) but Alex and Edward is the first I've put to life and also my favorite. Dark and Wednesday comes second, hehe.
Real life has not been very kind lately, but I do miss reading and writing. D: