Love-Literature

I know what it is to die, curled up on the bed with the sheets strewn about, leaking regret into a pillow case while daylight shines through the window as if everything is ordinary— as if nothing died and the world is as beautiful and logical as ever. I know what it is to sit in a lonely room with a dim lamp for light, wanting desperately to cry, but only able to sit in silence as the nausea gnaws and the images of toxic cleaner fluid cocktails won’t subside and cars keep driving by outside the window, their ghostly headlights illuminating the darkness— reminders that some people still have a reason.   I know what

Chapter 3: Candle's glow. It has been a month since the royal family killed the leaders of the Council of Sorcerers. The people of the kingdom have now begun to understand the change that has begun. Their once fair and righteous king has now become a true tyrant. As he increased taxes and killed many the people saw as his family also changed. Although she was always known to be a bit quiet, the queen hasn't spoken a word outside the castle. Her expression has become a simple calm face and nothing seems to draw out emotion in her. Despite being present at many of the executions the king arranges she never says a word or makes a different expre

look out the rearview to see a thunderstorm     orchestrating the florida sky, light keys    and a baseline making believers of us all, and  see how hope only hunts in the shadows,        we the soaked and cold;    say eat this and become the fire because we all want to see something beautiful burn        be it the heavens or ourselves;    so what if we have eaten the night and,  speaking of the sky. or to it: we have spent too long trying to trade places,   miles for miracles, but it just don’t work like that.  both see the world and not say a damn thing  so, why see at all? why not say goodbye already?  but see, th

is that what happened to you? fitful night terror curled up with the dregs in the shallows of a porcelain teacup don't be mad at him he didn't know about the sun that shone rainbows or Sunday morning pancakes the crystal and the dream catcher tuck me into your bed of false teeth swaddle me in that threadbare security blanket this is the eighteenth second chance but who's keeping count?