#midnight prose

[wayfaringauthorofficial]

Your playlist sings to me in the twilight as dreams and memories collide. Oh, I wish we had more time. I wish you all the best. I wish you could come back to me.

-Your birthday is tomorrow and suddenly, I miss your smile lighting up the dark.

[frostironfudge]

01:15 am | 9/2/2018

i see you with her

you might be in love i hear

but where your skin touched mine; all those promises,

they are losing hope

i feel my heart strings begin to tear

reminding me of a frayed rope

you gave back my broken heart mended so terribly

life has a sense of irony

oh my darling your heart still remains with me

By,

@theblogoffudge

[celinecurator]

A quiet corner for thoughts and inspirations. Hello, Tumblr.

[wouldnt-give-a-fig]

An image. Of the road. The streetlights warp the tarmac into sandy golden swirls of light and night. We never recognize the last moments until it’s too late. I want to run into you in the places I would never expect to see you. On the train home from the city. At an airport in Vienna. At the top of the mountain trail. Just for a chance to get to know you in a way I never knew before. And I think that if I was a little more gentle and a little more kind and a little more hopeful then the universe might have granted me the opportunity. But I am angry and jealous and cruel and when I cry myself to sleep at the end of the night I know I deserve the pain of living.

But I will take it in stride.

I used to think midnight was late but I’m starting to think that if only I could spend 4 am with you on the balcony of your condo, dropped cigarette butts from the floor above in the cracks of the concrete, drinking a fifth cup of chai as the wind blows out our candles…I know that there will never be enough time in this world to do everything.

[kin-n-n]

The mood's in the basement.

I crack a half-hearted joke about eating the same food when we were on the way here now that we’re going again.

It works for a moment, and mom laughs.

Dad keeps sighing in annoyance or contempt, it makes me angry.

I'm waxing tragedies and laments in my head while we eat. Close to tears.

My aunt comes just at the right time,

I'm oddly dreadful of going home.

The bitter taste of scorching tea on my tongue, I think of the future.

[kin-n-n]

There's a knife in her hand. A bit dirty, scratches are etched into the steel, the handle held losely in her hands. There’s blood smeared across the black plastic, though none on the blade, which confuses her for a second.

Then she remembers her blood-soaked hands.

A small tremor goes through her body as she starts through the hallway. It's cold. The temperature as well as the lighting. Cool hues of emergency exit signs are the only light source illuminating the concrete walls and cellar doors as she passes them one by one.

The moment she opens the door leading to the stairway, a wave of heat and bright light buffet her and she has to squint her eyes close. A glimpse of the stairs leading up to the opened entrance door is all she can catch.

[three-cats-in-a-black-trenchcoat]

You call her a sphinx

Saying she thinks she’s so smart

She’s trying to trick you

She won’t give you what you want without requiring something in return

You say she does not look as she should

She’s too big

Too loud

Too fierce

You cannot remold her into something that fits in your pocket

You cannot fit her with a leash and collar

You cannot make her a part of your life without changing something - or everything

You do not see her as a guardian, but a monster

Not a source of knowledge, but an abomination

To you, she is not a creature with purpose, but a distraction, a diversion, something to be overcome in order to conquer

You swear to your fellows, to your fathers, to your followers, that you will tame this beast

You will be triumphant

You will be victorious

You will knock her off her pedestal

You will put her in her place

Once you remove her, displace her, disgrace her, at last there will be room enough for you, you cry

You stubbornly refuse to turn your head and see

The empty, cracked, and lonely places that line the road behind you

The places your heroes and fathers once stood to face the monsters of their own

And beneath them

Lining the path to your victory

The shattered pieces

Of the sphinxes

Who came

Before

[frostironfudge]

with what tool did you write your words on my skin i know it wasn’t your lips. because the ink bleeds through the layers as though my skin were a thin page so easily you engraved my heart then piece by piece you let it shred darling see the dried up wounds see the blood on them — your words i have bled // piece by @theblogoffudge (i know my handwriting is crap, it is my first time posting a handwriting piece) please don’t delete the caption //