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On The Hill. no.2She had come to the country to escapes the pressure that seemed to stretch, kick and manipulate every optimistic thought to visit her head. However, the sky offered nothing for her- just exorbitant amounts of inoffensive, uninspiring baby blue. The grass tickled her exposed skin that ran across her hips and down the length of her leg where the wind planted unpleasant kisses of cold to chill her. She listened to the sound of it, spilling inside her ears, almost drowning out the shuffling and snorting of the mares behind the fence. She imagined what that wind could do to confetti.On The Hill. no.2
It was called “Monogamy Hill”, according
by ~on-cue
Enjambment storyThere was rust on my tongue.Enjambment story
I listen to the serenade glowing off their skin. They have Pink cheeks and hair down to their noses.
I hear it tickling the tops of their cheeks, ignored and comforting.
I stood amongst the reeds, water lapping against my kneecaps, tightening and keeping them stiff.
Except. Except the problem is... not that it doesn’t feel nice or anything... but you’re making me rust.
The glorious moonlight sucks big holes out of their chests and I watch the pieces float out and dance around their hands enclosed in other hands.
The other hands lead
by ~on-cue
TulipsI shall like to stick you in the cupboard, Yep, right next to the condiments. I wish your kisses were on-tap. I don’t want to wait and wait and just wait forever. So it seems.Tulips
The softness should be mine. The bunches of soft skin that begin a little bit beneath your nose... then swoop and curve into delicious hillsides before your chin beg
by ~on-cue
Road St.That house holds many stories beneath its eyelids. It’s watched it all. Maybe I could fold you up, slide you into the cracks above my bed The ones that look like a disfigured teddy bear She’s a brilliant shade of plastic! Shall you be bringing her home? Of course you’d never mix that world with ours. So tainted with our sleep Our sleeps tainted with all the things kept in the cracks.Road St.
The walls will sag in one day And we’ll dance under all that will fall out.
by ~on-cue
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Amanda?"Amanda?" he says. I look up at him and say "That isn't my name." He laughs. "I thought that was-" "That's NOT my name." I repeat without looking back up at him. I see his smile disappear and he's staring at me. My eyes are covered in black. Black mascara. Black eyeliner. Black eyeshadow, black bruises underneath. My hair is no longer perfectly hanging in straight lines from their roots. They're bent and crooked into a hundred different directions and stuck that way with a half bottle of hairspray. My cheeks are still rosy the way he recalls, but only because it's cold out andAmanda?
by ~WhenIRIP
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I linked you. Hope that's ok?
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photography clubs:
indie [link]
frenzy [link]
assignment [link]
film [link]
b&w club [link]
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"the eyes of my eyes are open"
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Therapy is expensive. Popping bubble-wrap is cheap... You'll see.
I also glad, Magical Trevor!
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"the eyes of my eyes are open"
Oh, jeez, and the watch <3 thanks!
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Wowza! How awesomesupremo! That\'s just so ulticooliolicious!
[link]
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Therapy is expensive. Popping bubble-wrap is cheap... You'll see.
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