Maybe I could fall,
Maybe I could fall apart.
The digital beeps vibrate in my ears, the wonderful glow dancing against my eyes. I missed this, so very much.
It's like a game, and I can picture the red, thick coating of my gameboy warm in my hands as my thumbs wait readily upon the A B buttons and the directional pad.
The small, pixellated greenish screen is the universe, and Tetris is the sun.
I miss playing, dancing, writing, feeling the corners of my lips curl into a smile as I realize I'm doing it again.
And I am. I'm doing it again.
Cue the electronic do re mi of the genius Russian who composed the Tetris soundtrack.
Let's play.
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Bittersweet Faith
We dance, slowly. It's like a game, and you know how much I hate it. How much it pains me, like forcing bits of broken glass into my skin.
I hate these games we play, and you play them anyway.
And, I keep clinging on to the stupid shred of hope that keeps winking at me, with brown eyes covered by long dark eyelashes.
I hate these games we play, and my bittersweet faith in you.
My bittersweet faith in this ending someday. Read More
I hate these games we play, and you play them anyway.
And, I keep clinging on to the stupid shred of hope that keeps winking at me, with brown eyes covered by long dark eyelashes.
I hate these games we play, and my bittersweet faith in you.
My bittersweet faith in this ending someday. Read More
On Top of the World
Give me the bright lights. I want to dance, dance away everything I did and did not do. I want to dance away the summer, and the worries and the goodbyes that linger in the back of my head. I know this song, I know the beats, the chorus, and I want to sing it until I can't hear my own voice anymore.
With bright lights, and really good pop music, I want to dance.
I want to dance.
And feel on top of the world. Read More
With bright lights, and really good pop music, I want to dance.
I want to dance.
And feel on top of the world. Read More
Follow The Cops Back Home
Knowing that I convince myself into things, for some reason, doesn't lessen my conviction.
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Snowflake
I'm walking in tiny circles again.
Must it all happen so dreadfully slow, and painfully fast?
I want to be 3 again, to sleep and wake up to the scent of freshly peeled peaches and the warmth of a midsummer afternoon.
Is that too much to ask?
I'm walking in tiny circles again. Read More
Must it all happen so dreadfully slow, and painfully fast?
I want to be 3 again, to sleep and wake up to the scent of freshly peeled peaches and the warmth of a midsummer afternoon.
Is that too much to ask?
I'm walking in tiny circles again. Read More
Hide and Seek
We're floating, and the tide pulls us a bit closer to the sun drenched beach. The waves splash against our kiss, against us, and I smile as your lips suddenly taste of salt.
*
My feet make contact with the warm sand and a gentle breeze reminds me of my skin. A small shiver runs down my spine, and before it ends your arms enclose around my shoulders, a towel between us. I smile, then laugh.
It feels warmer, and I take the towel into my own hands, turning to face you.
Your eyes are alive with expectation, and the sense of vibrancy fills me too as I inhale the burning wind. The air tastes like satsuma, I think.
It's our last day together, and I don't care a bit.
I don't care a bit, and you hold my hand.
I don't care a bit.
I don't care a bit. Read More
*
My feet make contact with the warm sand and a gentle breeze reminds me of my skin. A small shiver runs down my spine, and before it ends your arms enclose around my shoulders, a towel between us. I smile, then laugh.
It feels warmer, and I take the towel into my own hands, turning to face you.
Your eyes are alive with expectation, and the sense of vibrancy fills me too as I inhale the burning wind. The air tastes like satsuma, I think.
It's our last day together, and I don't care a bit.
I don't care a bit, and you hold my hand.
I don't care a bit.
I don't care a bit. Read More
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About Me
- Skyfall
- Full of life, colorful, happy - always, always happy. His life is a dance floor, music flows in him, through him, he never gets tired of dancing, of laughing, talking, creating and thinking. He is flamboyant and audacious, and content at being so. He lives to enjoy the color spectrum in all its great impossibility.