With this new weight, even further I descend.
From this new height, I peek my end.
So sweet, the smell of a youth’s boiling desires.
From across a sea one could see the fires.
Burning brightly, casting shadows of regret against a ravine below.
The red tinged smoke following, creating the undertow.
From this summit, the youth prepares for thought.
For hours of “do,” for hours of “do not.”
In the end, the world remains. Time continues to roll on.
But words carry far, and forever can be long.
So the youth stays put, eyes closed, heart spread wide.
Out of her chest, the emotions begin to glide.
Slithering like snakes, they exit with her breath.
They waft into the ravine, they float to their death.
As the last bits of red and gray leave her unused lips,
She grabs for the goblet, and takes only two sips.
The liquid of blank churns bleakly down her throat,
painting her insides with a numbing, silent coat.
There, she sits. She stares across the sea.
No longer with the thoughts,
the thoughts of “he and she.”
The scent of summer’s showers will wisp away,
my thoughts of you, as they decay.
How fun it was, when first it started.
Yet, already, we should have parted.
How thrilling it was, teasing our wits;
but now, it’s time. I call it quits.
True Life: I am Benji.
This movie somehow managed to be way better than I expected— while being just as cliché as expected. Hmmm.
If you continue to be adorable, I can’t promise that I won’t randomly hop into your arms one of these days. Fair warning.
I like taking long walks down short piers and staring directly into the sun for sport.
My name is irrelevant, and this is my blog.
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