creativitykiller: (Default)
2013-06-09 03:13 pm
Entry tags:


June 9, 2013

      Like  the way Hades saw a gorgeous Goddess I've seen you; like the way he stole her away I’ve hidden you. The angels know you by name, my darling, you are of such beauty. It won’t be long now, they will find you, they will find you... But for now I’ll hold you, and for now I will love you more than I should. And when they come for you, pray you don’t forget my name. I am he who found you. He who loved you. He who named you Flood. 

creativitykiller: (Default)
2013-05-15 03:18 pm
Entry tags:


May 15, 2013 

        Lilacs grow outside my window. And the sky is gray; the type of gray just before a storm. My house is quiet and, as I watch, tiny seeds rain down from the tree in my yard, caught tightly in the wind. The tree is tall and powerful, ivy wrapped around its trunk. The dark leaves clash so beautifully against its pale Sycamore skin. It’s a tragedy it is suffocating, but that’s what ivy does. It kills. 
The seeds fall onto the cement; to places where they can never grow. As they fall they look almost like snow, or maybe even ash. I let myself imagine that they’re something more than just seeds. 
Because when you imagine it doesn't matter who you are; when you dream you are anyone. First I am a lover, then a warrior. 
A fighter, then a Goddess. 
A am a nobody from Tennessee who got an unlikely shot. 
And I am a hero, and I have saved the day. 
And then I am back home. And lilacs grow outside my window. 
creativitykiller: (Default)
2013-04-17 03:08 pm
Entry tags:


April 17, 2013

  If I could I would let the ocean swallow me whole. I would let her kiss my skin and fill my lungs. She could do to me anything she pleased, so long as she gave me one thing in return: once she has ravished my body and broken my faith, I ask only that she release me as someone new. Someone who knows not what I do; someone who feels differently than I. I only wish to be someone innocent. 
It doesn't have to be for eternity. After a lifetime on the land, you become guilty once more. No, what I need is an intermission; a moment of peace where the salt water can scrub me clean. I need repentance, I need to confess my sins into her open seas.
And if I die, then so be it. There isn't a soul on Earth I would miss. 

creativitykiller: (Default)
2013-03-21 03:16 pm
Entry tags:


 March 21, 2013

        I made it through another Winter. I don’t know how to describe how I feel. I could say I feel relieved, but I love her gray skies. And there aren't gray skies anymore. I could say I’m sad, but I can’t be sad when I know that Winter isn't gone forever, she will be back. I guess I don’t really feel any emotion at all; I feel alive. Yes, alive. 
I made it through. Nostalgia didn't strangle me, silence didn't deafen me. The Winter is cold, but she is loving. Oh how she loves me. She holds on tight, her December fingers carving holes into my skin and I struggle to escape. Every year it is the same fight as Spring draws near. The Winter is a jealous lover. She is lonely, so very lonely. She begs for me to stay forever, to be immortal in a land where snow matches sky. It would be so easy to stay, so easy to stay...
But today is the Equinox. And told I am alive. Today I made it through. The Winter is put to rest for another year. I will catch sight of her in April’s icy storms, and August’s pouring rains, but it is not her. It is a trick of the light, a glimpse in a puddle. She is alive, though, behind my eyelids every time I close my eyes. I know she will be back. In another year she will arrive, and pull me in with soft fingers and cold breath. She will plead for me to stay, just like she does each year. Perhaps this time I will stay. Winter is the only place that feels like home.
To my Winter lover, to my November guest: this is not goodbye. 
creativitykiller: (Default)
2012-12-04 03:10 pm
Entry tags:

Lonely, too.

December 4, 2012

  Snow fell outside your kitchen window and the sky held the familiar gray tint that brought not only the frozen flakes but also a peaceful silence to the city below. The tree branches were bowed and heavy from collecting snow, praying for relief. I knew that somewhere on the ground there was a child admiring his handiwork, grinning at a snowman that smiled sloppily back. I knew that that child, nose red and shivering, would go inside happily to a proud mother and a hot cup of coco. That child would sleep warmly in his bed as the snow continued to blanket the world. 
I also knew that somewhere on the ground somebody was freezing. They were praying for warmth to a God who just dropped more snow upon their frozen body. I knew that not all was beautiful, not all was good. 
But sitting in the kitchen of your tiny apartment sixteen floors about the cold ground I allowed myself not to care. I allowed myself to pretend that nothing else mattered, that you and I were the only people on Earth and the snow was falling just for us. 
        As I looked out the window all I saw was gray and white; sky and snow. It was as though we were floating. Absentmindedly I wondered that a snowstorm looked like from Heaven. And then I wondered if there even was a Heaven. Or perhaps, this was Heaven. Perhaps this was all that I needed, all I would ever need. THe air in the room was chilly, my coffee was lukewarm, and your voice was soft and kind. You told me stories about anything and everything. And I listened. I learned everything there was to know about you, and then some. 
      You told me about the house you grew up in and your first kiss. You told me about everybody you’ve ever loved, and everybody who has ever loved you. You told me about the first time you flew in a plane and where you went and why. You told me about all the places you have ever wanted to go and you made me promise that someday I would go there with you. Of course I said yes. 
      You spoke to me without words, as well. You told me you were happy I was there by the way you angled your body towards mine as you spoke. You pleaded for me not to leave by the way you poured me a second cup of coffee, then a third. And as night fell and the sky darkened, you asked me to stay the night in the way you glanced nervously out the window and muttered about icy roads. I told you I would stay. You looked at me with a grateful glint in your bright, sad eyes. You had eyes the color of honesty; they spoke a million words your mouth never could. 
      Without words you confessed you were lonely. I smiled because I already knew. I smiled because I was lonely, too.