seeming like we're teeming with
something you'll never know.
Seeping with tingly feeling,
I am not ashamed.
Sometimes almost instinctually
Green and calloused...
Are you sick?
You should be ashamed.
Others' happiness clouding your only heart,
it just makes me so sad
to see your body become shapeless and
with your poisoned flowers in hand,
ready to give to us.
They are blue and green and smoking,
with leaves sharp enough to cut through
your thin skin.
And though they were intended for us,
they will never break the unbreakable.
I'm sad you will never know the love we feel
because of your cloudy heart.
If only you would let it rain and allow the water to
flush out the pain
and the green
because underneath I do believe
that there is color beyond imagine.
Unfortunately, there isn't anything I can do for you.
Only you can find yourself out.
In the meanwhile,
we will climb mountains and
raise the dead.
Maybe someday we could blow you a kiss.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
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- Published 7 years ago.
- Story viewed 12 times and rated 1 times.
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I'll need to read this a few more times before full understanding sets in, but I like the little seed of emotion it plants in my brain. Anguished but distinctly deciding to let go of that anguish. That's an empowering feeling.
One thing: "that there is color beyond imagine." If you're using "imagine" instead of "imagining" or "imagination" intentionally, the intent isn't obvious enough to be powerful. Right now, the word is distracting.