My Soul, Your Beats.

What little girls are made of.

[cmesparkle]

Centum

Today is the first day of the rest of my life, I look up and hope to live a long, full life but there’s evidence that I’m already getting worn, tattered and threadbare, and I’m not even forty yet.

I walk to my car and realize that I will never go to a gym again. I won’t do much of anything anymore other than walk toward death, slowly, painfully, achingly. I see the trees, how they’ve grown  since last fall and I realize I don’t pay attention enough to the things around me, I don’t see the details. 

I’m a “big picture” person, which is probably why I see my whole life unfolded before me like a Mexican blanket  I bought from some kid in Cancun for $2. Those blankets! They last forever! I want to live my life like that blanket, live for a billion years, even though I know that’s not possible.

Will life be worth living when I come apart?  When my bones crack and break, when my titties sag like sad sacks?  Will I really be wiser, or will I be the same cynical smart-ass I am now, spewing outdated jokes that no one gets anymore?  Will I be the sad, old, lonely lady with twenty cats that shit  everywhere except the litter box? Will I be a grandma or a genetic dead end? I don’t know what life has in store,  but I’m already starting to fold myself up like the party is over. 

I’m heading in to bed where I can rest and watch news on television, just because I don’t like the intrusiveness of the internet.  I plan to reject everything new, just because I can.  I’ll cling to my old beliefs, counting the years of my life from  one to ninety-nine. Then I will wait for that magical birthday, the one that no one ever thinks they’ll live long enough to see. 

I’ll insist on covering my cake with so many candles so I can make enough wishes to give the things I wanted for myself to the people I love now. I’ll give all my possessions away as I realize I can’t use them where I’m going, that all I’ve collected is basically junk, even the unicorn necklace my father gave me when I was five. I’ll find people to hold  the pieces of me that are left, every possession a new gift. 

by CmeSparkle, all rights reserved.

[wnq-writers]

I fell in love with the way she was so honestly broken; a mess of a girl with the face of a Michelangelo angel. She was a picture colored without precision, scribbles of color outside the lines. She was a white t-shirt covered in coffee stains. She was a napkin with a phone number drunkenly scribbled upon its face. She smoked to die slowly and yet she looked at this ugly world with blue eyes of curiosity and passion. Holes in her old jeans and a collarbone that could cut glass. She ripped her beating heart out of her chest and placed it in my trembling hands “hear, it’s yours” she said. She was a dying planet the world knew nothing about. A galaxy inside her mind. Sun in her eyes and a heart bigger than the moon. I think God made us out of the same star, ripped our heart in two and gave us each half. You don’t know what it’s like to live with a broken heart until you find its missing piece beating in someone else’s chest.

indieluhv (via wordsnquotes)

[wnq-writers]

There is no poetic way to tell you that you killed me countless times and that it didn’t hurt as much as breathing me back to life did.

atelophobiaxx (via wordsnquotes)

[yourheartisamachine]

On letting Go.

Slamming doors and mirrors stained

With lipstick kisses.

Crayon marks in every hallway,

road maps to your future self.

Trashcans filled with juicy juice boxes and half eaten lunchables.

Endless miles of blocks and baby doll dresses,

“Mommy I love you”s for nothing more than sharing the air you breathe.

Tomorrow, isn’t something I’m pining for. 

Tomorrow isn’t a day I am ready to face.

With each tomorrow, you’re becoming someone new.

With each tomorrow, I’m slowly having to let you go.

I want today to last a lifetime.

Your pretty little faces, looking up at me as if I am encapsulated in diamonds.

With absolutely no doubt, that I am the Goddess of your entire universe.

Atlas, I hold the world on my shoulders.

I created the world from the depth of my womb.

Tomorrow marks the realization, 

I am only a fragmented pigment of the true shade of human existence.

And the possibility, that I’m not even a shade

that you would have chosen to color your world.

Tomorrow, you will become the Gods and Goddesses

to a future generation of smiling faces.

And, I’ll be weak and weary from letting you go.

My senses will never be cleared of the scent of yesterday.

Yesterday, when I never thought of tomorrow.

My only thought, the need to feel your little hands in mine.

To feel your breath on my face 

as you twirl my hair between your tiny fingers

with no intention of ever letting go.

[yourheartisamachine]

Persephone

The sorrows the winter brings

snow flakes accumulating

spilling over homes and cars

beauty wrapped in fur

lying dead in her castle

Sorrow echoing 

off of the leafless trees

amplified by the lack of flowers

scattered in the sleeping grass

Somber skies

screaming in agony

My child is gone.

Hades,

you unmerciful cretin!

Using the Fates

to capture the souls of man

Deceiving better Gods

Granting you greatness

You are undeserving

I will show mankind

the depths of

your heartlessness

Cause them to suffer

for your indisgressions

And my agony

My daughter is gone!

I  accept no pity

from mortal realms

sitting in my temples

running from city to city

giving me empathy

with their lip service

I unleashed your underworld

Made in Manifest

in this beautiful creation

I put life to rest!

Everything at a stand still

In my agony

Oh, my Persephone!

My daughter, you’re gone

Hades!

I am giving you

death from the magnificence of life

You grant me half

of the sun’s cycle

I give you bleak and somber

drones of people

hovering over fires

holding each other tightly

fearing your dominion

Trying to escape your kingdom

I am giving penance

I was unable

to keep her safe

She’s in your clutches

My Persephone!

Life will stand still

Until you come home.

[yourheartisamachine]

In the hearts of men I find A procession of demons Trying to stifle the truth From being defined The truth Love eliminates Even the deepest sorrows Though it ignites Within us Bittersweet pain Immeasurable in intensity

In my own heart lies A constant battle between Revelation and exorcism To purge the pain of living Or allow my experiences To mold me into something Greater Than

The hearts of broken men.

[fyp-psychology]

One cannot be deeply responsive to the world without being saddened very often.

Erich Fromm (via fyp-psychology)

[yourheartisamachine]

Falling asleep tonight thinking, maybe everything really is all my fault. Maybe I'm the constant factor in all the equations that goes wrong. Maybe it really is me

[vav-ava]

paradise.

[stevenmiesel]

i get so mad when rich people have awful tastes in clothes, like please take advantage of your wealth

[nirvananews]

Previously unseen Kurt Cobain poetry. [x]

I can’t see the sun again. It happens all the time. Passing you by in darkness. You’re my favorite light.

Sleeping in the clover. So very lost in time. Playing with your shadow. You’re my favorite mime.

I can’t come and I can’t hide. From the victor of this crime.

I can’t really see you. You say it all the time. Under your breath you holler. I can’t afford the time.

Falling into tomorrow. My head hurts from this crime. Passing down the fodder. You burn again just fine.

[readingsteiner]

[shavingryansprivates-deactivate]

remember in 2012 when that lady tried restoring that painting of jesus

[alienpapacy]

she did good I like the new version it’s very modern and she is going to heaven

[its-burning-for-forever]

[velvetwren-deactivated20160105]

She is so cute, why do people hate her so much?

[cannibalgender-deactivated20140]

(because she’s a black woman who doesn’t pander to the male gaze or take any shit and is just really fuckin awesome)

[chaotic-evil-gender-deactivated]

Nicki is a black woman who owns her own business and is making a name in a male dominated industrys but still feminine and that pisses people off lol

[angryqueershakespeare-blog]

the truth hurts

[questionmarkpoetry]

Did life get better? No. It did not. I did.

cold hard truths at 2 am; 10 word story  (via questionmarkpoetry)

[yourheartisamachine]

I always end up crying again. So then I drown my sorrows in a sea of distant realities.

[yourheartisamachine]

Me? I don't know anything. But I have Google. Google knows everything.