Guy (lastyesterday) wrote in creativerity,

Stars For Strings

The Sea rolls over the rocks. Throwing white pearls over my socks.
The sea hisses happiness under the broken songs of beauty. The flaming soldier dies with grace; He screams it's his duty.
The kites fly like how I want to. The paper smiles smear like mascara in the rain.
It leaves no trace. No tell tale stain.
Just a path of metallic grass, shining like broken glass. On a field of mirrors.

A bloody name scrawled on the bathroom tiles.
A violent sign. That yours is mine.

The ships sail through their course. Plotting out the stars with hands like feathers, quavering in the wind.
The hills fall back to unveil the sea, glinting in its peaks. And my thoughts tint the grass a truthful blue. And I'm hanging upside down. With stars for strings. Astrology's puppet.
And I'm learning to love it.

Smothered in this dream.
Saving my vision like snapshots of steam. Indifferent shapes, never to be seen again. Painted in the water.

Cease to falter.

You're dancing in the shadows. Hiding in a silhouette.
Looking out an eye, motion in a movement.

Recorded in the distant fantasy of a memory.

One day my thoughts I'll feed to you.
You'll taste with a silver tongue.

Unravel in my sleep and weep my secrets. Twining itself around my kicking legs. And a girl in white shouts her mind to the jagged rocks beneath. Waves roaring, surging beneath the bare feet of wind. Catalysts of energy driving it like you drive me.
Fish catch the bait. And we run elated.

Hate like rain. Makes the wise insane. Eager hands go for gold. And it crumbles in greedy fingers. The yellowed moon flows over waves of sky.

My mind etched your figure upon the sands of time.
Odors like a pillow soaked in dreams.

Gentle metal rusts with tears from a dressed wound.
Achilles heel was a sacrifice of passion.
Philosophy is insomnia with sleep.

I was in a dark bar with cigarette smoke winding round my curious fingers, trying to test the material of death. And that's when i died.
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