There's a certain slant of light

Maddie, 16, Birmingham, England If I can't write, then I have nothing All my own stunts

[foundmyselfinparis-blog]

Your eyelashes kiss your cheeks when you blink

    Long and slow and heavy

I long to be an eyelash

[foundmyselfinparis-blog]

Girona

Heat and Passion and Wonder:

           (the streets whisper secrets)

Tall buildings, dusty stone, and the golden sunlight hazy and loving.

Toes tap a sardana on the cobbles,

    Whispers of olive oil on the breeze.

Voices sing adéu!, but, really, they mean I love you.

And one day all this could be mine.

For don't they say, 

   home is where the heart is?

[foundmyselfinparis-blog]

"Estoy esperando," he said, which either means I´m waiting or I´m hoping. In a way, they are the same thing. In every wait there is a certain amount of hope: hope that the bus won´t be late, that the food will be good, that your date won´t stand you up; and in every hope there must be waiting. Revolutions don´t happen overnight.

[gofuckingnuts]

[foundmyselfinparis-blog]

And so he said, to the girl on his knee, "question everything, child,

for it will not wait for you to ask."

[foundmyselfinparis-blog]

Pretty Please

One day

will you look at me?

and think that I'm pretty

please

[foundmyselfinparis-blog]

Children

WE TOO were once children,

Naive and conker-bashing;

Dancing in the rain

and kissing ice-lollies.

NOW we must be older.

We must be strong

and know what to do.

DON'T YOU WISH we could just dance in the rain,

for old times' sake?

Kiss lips, not ice lollies.

[foundmyselfinparis-blog]

Fingers

Fingers don't lie

They point where they want to go, 

                 as straight and stern as compass needles, 

                 desirous.

They glide over piano keys,

           blind as newborn kittens

           on giddy legs

           dancing to the tune of human love.

They touch

  a burst of static

  wisps of What Could Be

Take my hand and we could do anything

BE impossible

And strong fingers

      bold, wandering fingers

      grasping, clawing,

      stroking

   Now your hand

is my home

　       

[besshardwicks]

A Short Story About Sunshine

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[besshardwicks]

A Short Story Set About Midday

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[besshardwicks]

The Girl On Cello

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[besshardwicks]

Tea-Cosy

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[besshardwicks]

A Short Story At Midnight

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[besshardwicks]

A Charming Sister

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[besshardwicks]

Frost

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[besshardwicks]

The Pirate

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[foundmyselfinparis-blog]

Girls

Brave girls dance and flirt

And yell their loves for all to hear.

  Pretty girls wink and kiss

And make graves.

  Friendly girls laugh and play-fight

And become more than friends, so naturally.

  Lovely girls say sweet things and flutter their eyelashes

And kiss in the rain like a love song.

  But I’m not brave, or pretty, or friendly, or lovely.

I’m just a girl, and I sit here dreaming

Of telling you.