in the mausoleum @yearoftheskeleton-blog - Tumblr Blog

I.

the crush almost killed me. 9.21.12

our story was carved into marble that fell from heaven, but it shattered upon impact with the cold, hard ground. with the cold, hard truth; i blame myself to keep my mind off you.

#poetry

God, I don't want to hate you.

You're making this harder than it has to be.

(IfI hurt you, I'm sorry,

we are just so fragile.

Sometimes a mind forgets.)

I have dreams that make me feel alive,

but it's sort of funny how upon waking

I just find myself in a constant yearning to return to slumber.

There isn't much life here.

I've got sad friends,

friends near and far,

and yeah, I've lost a few,

but I can't say that anyone settles the difference I feel in my veins.

(Even if you said the right thing

I haven't been listening all along.)

twelveoddmonths

243/366

Where would you go if you knew you could not fail?

I have hopes and I have dreams,

the stars wont let me go.

Build a space ship.

Out of macaroni pieces and marshmallow pies.

I'm not making any sense, am I?

~

I let go of my balloon.

Let it float away in the atmosphere.

~

If I told you where to look,

would you find me?

In a blanket, beneath the stairs,

I was hiding.

From myself.

I've got demons, I've got monsters

in my head.

I tried to get them out once,

but it's awful hard to pull the trigger

when you're running from yourself.

~

A higher power would have taken the blame.

My hands are clean, but they're stained.

A higher power can't take the blame.

My hands were bloody. Now they're stained.

I'm not fallen.

I'm not an angel, so my knees would scrape.

And I'm so far from heaven.

Not quite hell, but I'm learning

-to distance myself.

Oh, there's no distance, just an absence.

If I was beautiful

like the girls in lace who line your walls,

I would be a disgrace.

Taking everything and leaving

nothing.

Nothing at all.

Oh, just kill me.

Shoot the runner,

I'm still able;

don't you point that finger at me.

Just a captive.

I am nothing more to you than a word you wish you never learned.

it's funny how with all this water

in my veins,

in my blood,

in my heart.

I still get burned by the wreckage

I'm not young, I'm just helpless.

God, I've lost it.

I'm not young, I'm just helpless,

God, I've lost it.

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I'm still doing this and it makes me a little troubled

loveyourquotes

denseharmonies-blog

New, so eh. Work in progress

lifeinthearctic

I.

can i go home now…? 7.23.12

and she’s starving in the backseat of a beat up silver dodge caliber barreling down the pacific coast highway at twenty miles over the speed limit; the car is hers, but the driver is a stranger she met at a strange bar. she’s writing a post card. she figures she’ll either send it tomorrow or someone’ll find it in the wreckage and send it the next day. her penmanship is so damn sloppy, in motion… ARE YOU DONE ROMANTICIZING THIS LIFESTYLE YET?

#poetry

youjustyou-deactivated20140307

#oh my #this #so much #relevant

can I kiss you good night?

I'm so into you that I can't see out

(I stole that last part from a song I heard;

inspiration comes in waves.)

It's a silly feeling to second guess yourself

out of all the splendid things in life.

Everyone tells me how gorgeous a smile is,

and I suppose I can try to be more beautiful for you,

but you seem to bring out the gorgeous in me

and I can feel it with every move I make

(and even those I refuse to move a muscle for.)

Impulses are the only thing in my veins

and my skin is too thin to keep them in.

There is no meaning here at all,

just humanity in it's finest,

inspiration at it's core,

I want to be better for you

but I amount to nothing.

There's a shelf in my room filled with books

and another filled with my own words,

but given the chance I would burn them both down

to create the space I need for you.

Besides,

given the chance,

the novels my fingers have graced have nothing in comparison

to the story we'll be dying to tell.

(And if it should end,

well, at least there was a beginning)

#poetry #mindless mumbles #personal

aseaofquotes

Nick Miller, Isn’t It Pretty To Think So?

yearoftheskeleton-blog

Fuck man. Fuck.

Fuck.

I have no idea what I am doing anymore. Everyone keeps swaying my opinion as if I am nothing at all. They are the wind and I am a lonely flake of skin that had been scratched off in one last attempt for comfort. Admit it to yourself; the skin you live in feels more reptilian than you can admit to yourself and we're all just looking for that rock in the desert to fall asleep on. I know I am. I hope the sunlight shrivels my skin and bleaches my hair; where is my beauty? Certainly not on the inside, but my outer layers are too fragile to hold the compliments.

If you want to know my secrets, all you have to do is ask. No matter how long I know you, I will only show you a handfull of my them, anyway. I don't need anyone getting ahold of my threads. No one has to unravel me. My mind unravels itself.

The truth is, I open my mouth more often than I know what to say. I stare off in space because I cannot handle the emotions I am tempted to face on a daily basis. I prefer those who are strangers to me because they will never have to deal with my shit, they will never know how disappointing I am, and they will never know the talent I waste sitting alone at night. Casablanca is the best movie I have watched, and I am confident that Humphrey Bogart is my favorite actor, but the emotions I feel while I watch movies of my era are so greatly differed than those I feel from the classics in black and white and floor length dresses that I cannot help but remove myself from my reality constantly. Give me a book, press play on a movie, for fucks sake talk to me. I want to pick apart your brain. I can't tell if it's my lack of intelligence or inspiration, but I am losing sight of my middle school dreams and breaking down into harsher realities. I told myself no monetary value could be put on my happiness, but the cost of living has to be greater than that of happiness.

For now.

Maybe I should try harder. I'm not sure whether I should put more guards up or take more down, but if I keep running, I know I will go too far. I have grown stagnant with the power to create a current, but I do not know which direction the water flows.

#writing #prose #personal #mindless mumbles