(no subject)
I will write you a story. For you to read and for your children to read. I will write you a story, one that is only for you. Though this will be produced and read by thousands, it is only for you. Every eye that passes of every comma and colon will believe it is for them that I write but I claim it is for you-reader. I shout your name and say, here it is at last. This is for comfort and nothing else. For a sigh of reliefs on a day of defeat when you're weak. Now, as all stories come with some sort of dissapointment, I will tell you them now to not spoil your heart later. For I am the writer and I do not want my reader to be in torment with the given flaws. This is a tale that is incomplete, without a middle and without other pieces that proper stories ought to have. This story is one of a glorious vessel.
Our young heroin, a sort of sea maiden with a heart trapped in love's tempestous quarrels. She started her journey out of her mother's womb smiling. From a young age with pencil in hand crafting words into poetry. Silly things of course. Nothing of true romance or adventure, but simple and pure similes and end rhymes. Entries that were easy enough and produced rotten laughter from classmates. After blows to her heart from events taken she built up her own barricades. And steadied herself strong. She became an actress and took quite easily and freely to the stage. She became what others were not her age and was a shadow of figures she dreamed to be. She was a player in her world but that narrator out side of it. But on an evening fireworks took display, she stood up straight noticing a fool out of the corner of her eye. Quickly she found herself without barricades and in a stolen season, one that would be later filled years past with a thousand apologies. In nights whispers she claimed what she had never known before. "I will have poetry in my life, and adventure, and love. above all this love." With those claims she was decieved. She grabbed at what was new and with warnings gave up love's prize for poetry. Absent friends and bright tears stuck in the plain land of Virginia. A heavy sick fever of love cast in her heart, and a farewell was given to whatever presented itself. In grays and ugly hues she saw the world outside of her vibrant tunnel vision. Everynight to the playhouse she performed but took in old words as fortune's own fool. Severing clouds covered drunken days standing tall. Pitty, screaming, her love was no lie. And her man was but only admirable. A rusty knife to those thought other wise. She left the theatre and put down gold to go to sea. She was tired. She wanted to be divded by a larger river and peak into adventure. Make it grab her by the throat and shake out the memories of the past. To make her sick out of love. After some time at sea there was a wild ship wreck, one that broke the heave and roar of the men on board. That brave vessel was thrown to the clashing rocks and this is where we found or heroin. For she was discovered. And from what you can tell in this description and the words that will not be written for your eyes that she was a strong soul. Surviving. A lady. With a battle within her greater then the atlantic and her soft spirit stronger then any worldly embrace. Her mystery starts at this unkown land, with an eager known boy. She starts on a vast empty shore and braves the wind with tears of conquest. "Farewell" with a dry swollow.
Now how may I claim this incomplete story ends? Well, I can't say it exactly does. But for now with tears and poetry. And a dream that she will not buy, as she did in the past, but will find herself in. Nights that she will demand never to meet day, and a life sunken in what she always wanted. She writes in the sand by her new found companion,
Make me your queen,
cut my crown apart
rip all my glory
and lay me down like a fool
Play your part beautifully
You can be something green
Wrap me up like vines
grown to cover me.
Or be what you can
fierce & selfish
frustrated & unknown
Clear your throat to say
I've lost love but now with you not alone.
She has a new color in her cheeks. Place perfectly as if painted on by life's happy days. A fluctuating dark green ember burns on in her eyes, at downcast receding to sadness almost disappearing. At those times her mind is in those timeless memories. But with something new her mouth is more full and like budding roses braking through winter. So she laughs. And she dreams. She is not without hope.
Our young heroin, a sort of sea maiden with a heart trapped in love's tempestous quarrels. She started her journey out of her mother's womb smiling. From a young age with pencil in hand crafting words into poetry. Silly things of course. Nothing of true romance or adventure, but simple and pure similes and end rhymes. Entries that were easy enough and produced rotten laughter from classmates. After blows to her heart from events taken she built up her own barricades. And steadied herself strong. She became an actress and took quite easily and freely to the stage. She became what others were not her age and was a shadow of figures she dreamed to be. She was a player in her world but that narrator out side of it. But on an evening fireworks took display, she stood up straight noticing a fool out of the corner of her eye. Quickly she found herself without barricades and in a stolen season, one that would be later filled years past with a thousand apologies. In nights whispers she claimed what she had never known before. "I will have poetry in my life, and adventure, and love. above all this love." With those claims she was decieved. She grabbed at what was new and with warnings gave up love's prize for poetry. Absent friends and bright tears stuck in the plain land of Virginia. A heavy sick fever of love cast in her heart, and a farewell was given to whatever presented itself. In grays and ugly hues she saw the world outside of her vibrant tunnel vision. Everynight to the playhouse she performed but took in old words as fortune's own fool. Severing clouds covered drunken days standing tall. Pitty, screaming, her love was no lie. And her man was but only admirable. A rusty knife to those thought other wise. She left the theatre and put down gold to go to sea. She was tired. She wanted to be divded by a larger river and peak into adventure. Make it grab her by the throat and shake out the memories of the past. To make her sick out of love. After some time at sea there was a wild ship wreck, one that broke the heave and roar of the men on board. That brave vessel was thrown to the clashing rocks and this is where we found or heroin. For she was discovered. And from what you can tell in this description and the words that will not be written for your eyes that she was a strong soul. Surviving. A lady. With a battle within her greater then the atlantic and her soft spirit stronger then any worldly embrace. Her mystery starts at this unkown land, with an eager known boy. She starts on a vast empty shore and braves the wind with tears of conquest. "Farewell" with a dry swollow.
Now how may I claim this incomplete story ends? Well, I can't say it exactly does. But for now with tears and poetry. And a dream that she will not buy, as she did in the past, but will find herself in. Nights that she will demand never to meet day, and a life sunken in what she always wanted. She writes in the sand by her new found companion,
Make me your queen,
cut my crown apart
rip all my glory
and lay me down like a fool
Play your part beautifully
You can be something green
Wrap me up like vines
grown to cover me.
Or be what you can
fierce & selfish
frustrated & unknown
Clear your throat to say
I've lost love but now with you not alone.
She has a new color in her cheeks. Place perfectly as if painted on by life's happy days. A fluctuating dark green ember burns on in her eyes, at downcast receding to sadness almost disappearing. At those times her mind is in those timeless memories. But with something new her mouth is more full and like budding roses braking through winter. So she laughs. And she dreams. She is not without hope.