I write this with a healing heart that you have no ties to. I`m hard to love and even harder to hold. My heart drips spikes and my writings drip gold. I`ve loved and I`ve lost but I prefer to stay in my world wrapped in a blank canvas. I am the creator of beautiful things. Hearts form from my pen tip and occasionally...
I stab them.
But it`s only because I like to feel the stinging of poked bruises. I like to hold the intensity like lightning in the palm of my hand. Snow globe hands constantly shifting and the details never falling quite the same way. It`s funny how the smallest details leave the biggest gaps when you step back and stare. I hold the secrets in my lips, and let them taste freedom when I tell you that I love you. Walls collapse when you hold my fragile frame in your hands. Stop my thoughts with your lips, fold my goals with your tongue, and erase my memory with your stare. But ghost by morning because I enjoy the silence that can only be had when I am being held by my cold pillows. The sun shining illuminating every life I'm not living but it knows not the life I give to the night. Darkness is to not be feared when you are the brightest beacon in the stormiest ocean. Sun rays through storm clouds bleed the song of my heart. The wildest dreams lay beneath the murkiness that is only shifted when those that are settled can no longer be content. Fixated on the laughs that swallow the room. Perfections... imperfections... I digress. I dream up the balloon clouds that I can hang from and go anywhere. The things seen and never to be seen again, remember the wishes that never surfaced her lips. Do you ever just look at the lines in the palms of your hands and wonder if they contain the meaning of life? What I mean is the meaning of your life. Like those lines hold every answer you've ever been searching for? I've always said that I'm more intrigued with my own thoughts than actual people. Because my own thoughts spill out in a complexity that captivates me. Dissolving the misconceptions that people need people.
About the Creator
Caitlin Parsons
26 years old. STL.
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