half full.
she wore life
with a smile
and a navy blue cardigan,
sketching hope
rebelliously
into the palm of her hand
with red ink.
(Source: thedustdancestoo, via inlocoparentis)
before the sun.
i wake up before the sun,
with a hum of words
inside my head
trying to get out
in the darkness,
in the silencei write
trying to fill the blank pages
of brand-new notebooks
but i can only produce
a mediocre scream,
a whimper
a plea or cry,
a pathetic
and feeble try
at something meaningful
honest
and true.
(Source: thedustdancestoo)
1 year ago - 
82
82 haiku #62.
i’m lost. trapped inside
this storm; trapped inside these thoughts.
you’ve bewitched my mind.
(Source: thedustdancestoo)
1 year ago - 59
59 atomic (part one).
i find you
in the smallest spaces
of the tiniest fibers
of my breath.
you flow from my lungs
to my lips
with each syllable i mumble,
every particle i exhale.
i find you
in the smallest spaces
of the tiniest fibers
of everything i see
feel,
hear,
taste,
and write.
(Source: thedustdancestoo)
i write, therefore i am.
ink drips from my fingers,
ink flows through my veins.
these tiny teardrops
of poems and stories,
pouring from the aqueducts
of my brain.
(Source: thedustdancestoo)
has poetry lost its power?
the words i write
are inconsequential,
senescent syllables
losing their strength
and ability to stay
alive on a page
for more than two seconds,
they fade and fall off
getting lost forever,
unable to find a way
into your heart.
(Source: thedustdancestoo)
let me understand everything.
i wish
i could shine a light
through the back of
your skull, so it would spill
out of your eyesocketsand project everything
that hides inside your head
onto the wallpaper.
(Source: thedustdancestoo)
sometimes
when my mind is congested,
i sneeze, and words come out.
-thedustdancestoo
(Source: thedustdancestoo)
1 year ago - 1
1 today, even the sunshine feels
hollow in my hands, and
i can find no words to decribe
the feeling that’s filling me.
(Source: thedustdancestoo)
