drop what your doing and come to london,
forget your troubles and sail away.
leave hastings its such a small town,
only just for the day
The wine fell into the ice, it sunk, too cold to retrieve. Darkness had already fallen, buildings were crumbling. The decay was magnificent and dangerous. Child in arms, we climbed the stairs. Her beauty shone through it all. With dark hair and striking eyes, her intelligence and curiosity gave us hope. We climbed the stairs, the metal simply perishing under our touch. We sat with women of ancient myths. Ancient stories and ancient beliefs. I refused their judgements. I refused their condemnation. They enticed me, but fear crept up as I realised their poisoned ideals. I woke still surrounded by darkness.
"They talk of broken hearts, but what about a broken soul?
A heart can mend if it is given time. It is tangible unlike a soul.
Though as delicate as it's walls may seem, the heart is strong
enough to withstand hurt, loss, and sorrow.
But a soul. How do you mend a soul? One cannot see or touch
a soul. For a soul is the shadow behind one's eyes. It is the phantom
ache that pricks and cuts one like shards of glass. It is the army of
ghosts inside one's head. And when a broken soul unstitches itself
from one's body it wanders the earth, in search of darkness. Again,
once the soul has departed a body, it can no longer speak or cry out
or scream. However, it can become the wind. A terrifying wind that
howls a melody that one can feel in the very marrow of their bones.
A melody so woeful and tragic that even the wolves underneath same
stars and the same moon begin to cry."
boyswhoblush
A heart can mend if it is given time. It is tangible unlike a soul.
Though as delicate as it's walls may seem, the heart is strong
enough to withstand hurt, loss, and sorrow.
But a soul. How do you mend a soul? One cannot see or touch
a soul. For a soul is the shadow behind one's eyes. It is the phantom
ache that pricks and cuts one like shards of glass. It is the army of
ghosts inside one's head. And when a broken soul unstitches itself
from one's body it wanders the earth, in search of darkness. Again,
once the soul has departed a body, it can no longer speak or cry out
or scream. However, it can become the wind. A terrifying wind that
howls a melody that one can feel in the very marrow of their bones.
A melody so woeful and tragic that even the wolves underneath same
stars and the same moon begin to cry."
boyswhoblush
"We swam in the warm waters. He turned and saw me. I tried to hide, forgetting I was exposed in the clear blue surrounding me. He smiled. He smiled. He handed me a scrap book. Filled with colours and fabrics, the writings gave me comfort. I spent hours reading and re-reading his words. They told me I was forgiven. It was all okay.
Then I woke up. Yet another dream I wish I could linger in, just for a little longer, before reality kicks in."
"You are beautiful like demolition. Just the thought of you draws my knuckles white. I don’t need a god. I have you and your beautiful mouth, your hands holding onto me, the nails leaving unfelt wounds, your hot breath on my neck. The taste of your saliva. The darkness is ours. The nights belong to us. Everything we do is secret. Nothing we do will ever be understood; we will be feared and kept well away from. It will be the stuff of legend, endless discussion and limitless inspiration for the brave of heart. It’s you and me in this room, on this floor. Beyond life, beyond morality. We are gleaming animals painted in moonlit sweat glow. Our eyes turn to jewels and everything we do is an example of spontaneous perfection. I have been waiting all my life to be with you. My heart slams against my ribs when I think of the slaughtered nights I spent all over the world waiting to feel your touch. The time I annihilated while I waited like a man doing a life sentence. Now you’re here and everything we touch explodes, bursts into bloom or burns to ash. History atomizes and negates itself with our every shared breath. I need you like life needs life. I want you bad like a natural disaster. You are all I see. You are the only one I want to know."
Henry Rollins
Henry Rollins
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)