You are the curve of the earth
As it fades into the heavens
The golden sunlight
Washing over the canopy of the forest
And in your rolling hills, hollows and cliffs
I will find myself
Your eyes
They are the reflection of the sky
On the rippling surface of the river
The gray blue of the stones
Underneath the waterfall
The silver lining in between
Every tuft of cotton clouds
Glowing in the sunset
I will follow the beating of your heart
Like I follow every bend of the Delaware
Until I reach the sea
I hear your laughter
In the breathing of the wind
In chimes and in church bells
In the pounding of the water
As it roars across the mountainside
I
i hoped to see an angel tonight
in my grandparent's quiet house
i hoped to see a ghost
as i sat alone on my grandmother's bed, i did hear them
the ghosts, whispering, walking through the kitchen
and the living room, bumping through the attic
and i saw them in the moonlight
peering at me from the darkness of the woods
the ghosts, they didn't frighten me
just wore me out with their empty gazes
and their bittersweet memories, now
it feels like i'll never smile again
they curled my soul into a little ball
and dropped it in my stomach
now, i only want to vomit
i'm so god damn exhausted
from searching
from hearing nothing
but echoes
i hoped to
“It’s been trying to rain.” My Grandfather said to me over the summer
Not even looking at the bright hot blue sky with very few clouds
As if they each were a living thing, capable of trying to do anything at all
A couple days later, it rained for a few dozen hours straight
Y’know, for a long while now,
I’ve felt like I’m finally on the path of self-discovery
That I’m mere inches away from self-actualization
Now, I wish that it would finally come
It's been half a year since that summer day
I’ve been relearning most of the things that I thought I knew
Like how to read and write and thi
Chase your dreams, they said
Follow your heart, stay true
To yourself, get in touch
With your soul
Well I've touched it
If it's my soul that I see
Curling out of my nose in smokey tendrils
My dreams run from me
And I'm so very weary
On most days when all there is is acid
Eating away my stomach
They always say go find yourself
I've succeeded in that at least
I have sat and
Stared at the sky
Barely breathing
Before forgetting
To breathe
At all
I have stayed up sleepless nights
And countless hours
I have begged for help from the moon
And received none
I tore through my skin
Picked my way in between
Muscle, sinew, arteri
Time and Consciousness by phantomatthewindow, literature
Literature
Time and Consciousness
Time is lethal
To be aware of it means
That you know you're going to die
And even the unaware
Will come to know that fact dearly
One day
It makes the trees grow
And the snow fall
The one who fills the oceans
The one who raises mountains
The one who heals all wounds
It is time who swings the pendulum
And sets the stars twirling
Beautifully around you
Time is the thread that entwines all things
Flies are crushed, men are buried, trees are felled
The sphinx already lost its nose
The pyramids will one day crumble
And the sand of the desert
Will bury it all while the wind
Howls in understanding
This is why I say that time is l
You are the curve of the earth
As it fades into the heavens
The golden sunlight
Washing over the canopy of the forest
And in your rolling hills, hollows and cliffs
I will find myself
Your eyes
They are the reflection of the sky
On the rippling surface of the river
The gray blue of the stones
Underneath the waterfall
The silver lining in between
Every tuft of cotton clouds
Glowing in the sunset
I will follow the beating of your heart
Like I follow every bend of the Delaware
Until I reach the sea
I hear your laughter
In the breathing of the wind
In chimes and in church bells
In the pounding of the water
As it roars across the mountainside
I
i hoped to see an angel tonight
in my grandparent's quiet house
i hoped to see a ghost
as i sat alone on my grandmother's bed, i did hear them
the ghosts, whispering, walking through the kitchen
and the living room, bumping through the attic
and i saw them in the moonlight
peering at me from the darkness of the woods
the ghosts, they didn't frighten me
just wore me out with their empty gazes
and their bittersweet memories, now
it feels like i'll never smile again
they curled my soul into a little ball
and dropped it in my stomach
now, i only want to vomit
i'm so god damn exhausted
from searching
from hearing nothing
but echoes
i hoped to
“It’s been trying to rain.” My Grandfather said to me over the summer
Not even looking at the bright hot blue sky with very few clouds
As if they each were a living thing, capable of trying to do anything at all
A couple days later, it rained for a few dozen hours straight
Y’know, for a long while now,
I’ve felt like I’m finally on the path of self-discovery
That I’m mere inches away from self-actualization
Now, I wish that it would finally come
It's been half a year since that summer day
I’ve been relearning most of the things that I thought I knew
Like how to read and write and thi
Chase your dreams, they said
Follow your heart, stay true
To yourself, get in touch
With your soul
Well I've touched it
If it's my soul that I see
Curling out of my nose in smokey tendrils
My dreams run from me
And I'm so very weary
On most days when all there is is acid
Eating away my stomach
They always say go find yourself
I've succeeded in that at least
I have sat and
Stared at the sky
Barely breathing
Before forgetting
To breathe
At all
I have stayed up sleepless nights
And countless hours
I have begged for help from the moon
And received none
I tore through my skin
Picked my way in between
Muscle, sinew, arteri
Time and Consciousness by phantomatthewindow, literature
Literature
Time and Consciousness
Time is lethal
To be aware of it means
That you know you're going to die
And even the unaware
Will come to know that fact dearly
One day
It makes the trees grow
And the snow fall
The one who fills the oceans
The one who raises mountains
The one who heals all wounds
It is time who swings the pendulum
And sets the stars twirling
Beautifully around you
Time is the thread that entwines all things
Flies are crushed, men are buried, trees are felled
The sphinx already lost its nose
The pyramids will one day crumble
And the sand of the desert
Will bury it all while the wind
Howls in understanding
This is why I say that time is l
i am choking for words.
i hacked off the tip of my tongue
to spite my quick wit-
stumble over it.
lusting for beauty through text/
creation is hollow at best-
a dollhouse
a fantasy, dystopian as per usual
for an idle mind
losing hours and
pickled in hate's brine.
salt in the wound
salt in the wound
angst, angst, teenage angst.
a kiddie anarchist
stop fighting it.
turn up the stereotypical
depression playing on the radio
don't try to be more original
what haven't we seen?
choking for words and
stuck on painted portraits
all is well, but never exciting
i'm exiting this uneventful life
all for once and once for all
and i'm not afraid to fight
and i'm not afraid to die
and i
am
not
afraid.
[actually, i am not
much of anything right now]
and i.
there are days when i find it immeasurably desirable to just rip my organs out-
-just rip them right fucking out, i never knew nails could dig through flesh like that until she did it-
- blood spattering all over that painting i just finished, dear what a waste i was going to get an a on that.
there's a hollow right behind my heart that i can't feel until you leave me
i feel incomplete without you, that's what love is
but i don't can't love you because if i did i'd feel too guilty when i hurt you
Knees folded into
chilling shocks of snow;
body crumpled down
between blankets of cold
and sheets of twisted pain.
A lonely howl of wind through
Mountains
of a heart gone barren,
A desolate wasteland
seen only in the realm
of false perception.
A cry
lost in the immense expanse
of time itself.
Rocks, edges sharp
Cut into fleshy palms
As all that is whole
begins
to break.
And a stacatto burst of breath.
The gunshot sound of
lungs firing
while empty of air.
It is a last breath.
A dying breath.
A breath taken only to find
that death
has not yet come.
Favourite genre of music: Metal. But I'll listen to pretty much anything. Favourite style of art: The written word. MP3 player of choice: My little Sansa I got years ago for 50 bucks <3 Shell of choice: ? Favourite cartoon character: Ed Personal Quote: "It's like being yourself times ten."
Favourite Visual Artist
Artist is too loose a term.
Favourite Movies
Sin City
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Many. Lately, it'd be Manchester Orchestra.
Favourite Writers
Raegan Butcher
Favourite Games
God of War. InFamous. MGS. Final Fantasy. The Indigo Prophecy.
Jesus.
I've had this account for three years.
Never used it.
Uploaded a shit ton of my writing a few months ago.
Forgot all about it.
Whatever.
I'll probably forget about it again.