astral206's profile

Solid walls loom above that persistent vapor Surrounding the fortress, insistent to stay here. She tastes so sweet, something like apples Still basting in discreet overhanging scaffolds. I'm baffled about tomorrow and the day after; Yesterday leaves me wanting to move faster, Towards the Sun, and to that spot behind it Awaits an unknown life and a God to bind it. But still, I'm only blinded, forever, and I like it.

A shallow lake once spoke, you see. She said in a bright soliloquy, "Why do stones not love my water?" I replied to her without falter: "Because they skip and sink and hit the bottom. Only those throwing ever saw them. They love your kiss and shiny mist But come to rest in so fast a coffin." She was taken aback and began to react, Gushing up gallons in a watery attack! Millions of stones were floating in air; All but one went every which where. The lone stone dug deep and started to weep, Hol...

Hopes and dreams are random things That we wear and tout like golden rings, Placing them high upon that pedestal; Then we fall and feel like there's no better fool. It's regrettable, truly, we are so unprepared. The unknown attacking like a bear's teeth bared. Fight or flight, the workman's plight; Everyone is wrong in the eyes of the right. But shy from the light and stare into shadows; You might find your lives hanging from scaffolds. Baffled eyes blinking a familiar pattern; Tattered rags ...

We came together, joined between the hips, going halves on a baby. Lips on awkward lips, quivering and shivering; the heat from friction forcing cold to flee. We met more placidly, in a coffee shop. I was a little late for work, but not for fate. I saw you soon enough. You had a cinnamon scone being eaten on your plate, icing on your cheek, and an open book held up. Your dark hair seemed afraid of your shoulders, curling upwards towards the sky right before it would have grazed your nape. My...

Adam I arrive to class on time. My watch must be off. As I walk into the silent classroom, every head looks up as the door closes behind me. I freeze and glance around the room. All the boys, a little more than half the class, have close-cropped hair that shies away from their ears. They sport grey sweaters and black slacks, displaying the Red Sash on their right arms, above the elbow. The girls’ sweater-vests and skirts are much the same, the only exception being they donned the sash as a sc...