➡ [ original: poetry prose ]
Series: Original
Rated: G
Summary: UNFINISHED
Disclaimer: © arttype
Title:
Nowadays, I never know where to begin. Where to start.
My heart is a ticking mechanical beast in my chest, waiting to explode. My mouth is a firecracker waiting to go off. Waiting to burn the flesh from your hardened leather ears.
But that's not how I want to be heard. That's not how the story should go.
I'm hiding in the barren skull of my head, amidst the blackened, decaying memories of hate and anxiety. Where my happiness turns to fear and my laugther turns to cries.
I want to say cries of joy, but you know this isn't how it goes.
You know, I wanted to build a story worth telling, worth your time. I wanted to say that the girl falls in love and it's not perfect, but it makes her feel good. It makes her feel great, in fact. Like flying with her feet on the ground. Like standing still in the summer air. Like a warm fireplace. Like the way the coals lick your feet and the wood sits beside you, watching you burn.
The thing with love, it's too powerful. It gets inside of you even when you want to claw it out. Even when you're ripping flesh and bone and there's blood dripping on your hands.
I'm blinded by it, drowning in the emotions of the pitter patter of my pumping anatomy. To the point where ecstasy is a drug that I'm addicted to. And all I wanted was a cure.
Rated: G
Summary: UNFINISHED
Disclaimer: © arttype
Title:
Nowadays, I never know where to begin. Where to start.
My heart is a ticking mechanical beast in my chest, waiting to explode. My mouth is a firecracker waiting to go off. Waiting to burn the flesh from your hardened leather ears.
But that's not how I want to be heard. That's not how the story should go.
I'm hiding in the barren skull of my head, amidst the blackened, decaying memories of hate and anxiety. Where my happiness turns to fear and my laugther turns to cries.
I want to say cries of joy, but you know this isn't how it goes.
You know, I wanted to build a story worth telling, worth your time. I wanted to say that the girl falls in love and it's not perfect, but it makes her feel good. It makes her feel great, in fact. Like flying with her feet on the ground. Like standing still in the summer air. Like a warm fireplace. Like the way the coals lick your feet and the wood sits beside you, watching you burn.
The thing with love, it's too powerful. It gets inside of you even when you want to claw it out. Even when you're ripping flesh and bone and there's blood dripping on your hands.
I'm blinded by it, drowning in the emotions of the pitter patter of my pumping anatomy. To the point where ecstasy is a drug that I'm addicted to. And all I wanted was a cure.