Outlined, Underlined, Unlined

Chasing Stories I'll Never Write~

[my-typewritten-thoughts-deactiv]

“You’re going to meet many boys on this journey. You can’t let them distract you from becoming the woman you are meant to become.”

— Stephanie Perkins, Isla and the Happily Ever After

[her-minds-a-mess]

“Some would look into his eyes and see darkness, but she knew better. She could see that he carried a storm within his bones, one that contained both chaos and calmness. Look too closely and you could catch the lightning peering through his veins. Closer than that, and you could see every suffering, strife, and struggle he had ever faced pinned together in cracked armor…he managed to carry the weight of it all, though. He was a paradox, and her soul felt pulled toward it.”

—

[linesinthesnow]

But that night, she floated on clouds and smoked the stars and danced upon the rings of Saturn.

[linesinthesnow]

7.5

She sat alone on a rock, the night’s darkness enveloping her being. Large drops fell from the sky as the flooding water pooled around her. She had isolated herself hoping that the Heavens’ tears would hide those of her own, but where the falling drops once were soothing, they were now painful, burning straight through her and striking her fragile soul. The wind howled around her, and she became the eye of the hurricane as everything around her spiraled and roared in deafening harmony with her thoughts. She had intentions of drowning her sorrows in the storm, but instead, had become the dreaded storm itself. Longingly, she stared into the falling sky, looking for a glimpse of refuge among the clouds as the world around her collapsed, looking for a chance to forget, to leave the damaged world behind her. Raindrops struck the Earth beneath her as they struck the heart within her with a painful, quickening rhythm. 

She had lost a friend that night, and with him, she had lost herself.

[self-lovejourney-blog]

[linesinthesnow]

11.11

Crisp leaves covered in a film of frozen glass cracked beneath her as she walked along the path. On the horizon were snow-tipped mountains piercing through wandering clouds. The frosted earth reflected the hue of the waking blue sky, and the smell of burning rustic wood filled the fresh, brisk air. Birds rose with the sun, their mellow tunes echoing through the silence, yet the world remained a hazy shade of blue. A blue so deep that it dried her words and choked her songs. A blue so deep that it swallowed her being. A blue so deep that it murdered the beauty in her and in every surrounding flower. A blue so deep that she fell in love with it, until it left her dry. A blue so deep that it kissed her soul goodbye.

[linesinthesnow]

10.27

Her eyes darted across the blackened sky, waiting impatiently for an angel to appear among the stars. Her hollowed heart pounded in her chest, setting the quick rhythm which her breath followed. Cool air filled her lungs, sending chills through her body as tears streamed down her pale face. She was surrounded by darkness, taunted by the bright stars. Longingly, she stared until she could no longer see through the tears, and she collapsed in a melody of sobs, pleading for an eternal sleep to set her broken soul free. Death had always been a rumor to her young mind, until it left a heartache even time could not heal, for death had touched her and torn her and left her to suffer alone.

[linesinthesnow]

5.29

She stared into the freckled night sky. The world around her was still, but the atmosphere above her was moving. The moon reflected off her glossy eyes as her mind reflected off the gleaming stars. Infinite far-away orbs twinkled against the velvety sky, and she could do nothing but gaze longingly, as though waiting for a single star to appear among the rest. And with every breath she took, she inhaled a new love for her universe, and exhaled a new love for herself.

[linesinthesnow]

4.10

Like a dark forest against the twilight sky, your deep brown eyes showed every crease in the branches. Every hint of passion left a thick, hidden green somewhere between twigs. And with every glimpse of hope, the stars of your eyes would twinkle down through the tarp of leaves. 

No eyes as blue as the sea and no eyes as green as clovers could ever compare to the rich, copper colour of the morning soil, damp and dewy after a night of rain.

[catmint1]

There’s a bit of magic in everything, and some loss to even things out.

Lou Reed, “Magic and Loss” (via catmint1)

[wordsof-mine]

But I’ll stare at the stars like you told me too, waiting patiently for any sign of you.

stargazing// 3.04am 24.1.17 (via wordsof-mine)

[linesinthesnow]

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal.

Richard Puz

[linesinthesnow]

2.12

It’s like after a storm, when the earth is dewy and the thunder lightly rumbles in the distance. When the leaves stop dancing and tides slowly licks the shore. 

It’s like after the story’s climax, when things start to calm down and the plot resolves. When the main character solves the issue and they reach their happy ending.

It’s like after the bridge, where the chorus combines the whole song and you feel it in your body. When the chords become your spirit and the rhythm becomes your pulse.

It’s like after the darkest hour, when the stars twinkle brighter and the sky becomes less heavy. When the earth goes to sleep but the soul wakes up.

It’s like the afterwards, where there’s a serenity and there’s a solitude. When everything seems to be okay and time stops.

But sometimes, you want the next storm to come. You want to feel the rain hit your skin and watch the lightning illuminate the sky.

But sometimes, you want to reread the book. You want to get to the climax and feel the anticipation surge through your mind. 

But sometimes, you want to replay the song. You want to build up the intensity and belt it out with all your heart.

But sometimes, you want to revisit that weary hour. You want to listen to the deadly silence and stare into the abyss of shadows.

You were my storm, by climax, my bridge, and my midnight. And this time, I yearn for that experience again.

[linesinthesnow]

Poetry must have something in it that is barbaric, vast and wild.

Denis Diderot

[linesinthesnow]

1.27

But it’s that moment. That moment when you look into the forest of their eyes and hear the melody of their voice. It’s that moment that reminds you of why every night sky used to glisten with crystals, and why every crashing sea used to ripple with tropical wonders. It’s that moment that makes you realize that every night sky now is only an endless darkness, and every crashing sea is only a treacherous suffocation. It makes you realize that every rain drop that reflected memories, now reflects empty visions. It makes you realize that every bird’s song of love and peace, now is of danger and warning. It’s that moment, when every emotion you’ve ever felt is reflected in their eyes, when every word you’ve wanted to say to them disintegrates in their voice. It’s that moment that brings you to realize how empty you’ve been. 

[linesinthesnow]

But honey, you're the smoke that fills my lungs when I'm sad. You're the rush that surges my mind. You're the high that I crave when I'm left without. And baby, I've been sober too long.

1.22

[wnq-writers]

She craves an existence full of laughter and late nights around a campfire and kisses underwater where the world is still.

gentle-falling  (via wnq-writers)