The Flowers Weep

Petri-scented petals plead of petra's intent glimmering in moonlight reminiscent of the absent smell sorrowing towards the setting harrowing the demise approaching kneel towards the forgotten gods for endless reconnaissance  

What Remains of Edith Finch, Telling Inspiring Stories Without Characters.

Before you continue reading this, take a moment, and look around your room.  What do you see? Many of you will see some water containers that you're procrastinating taking to the sink. Quite a few of you will see the infamous chair full of clothes. What you probably do not see is perhaps, what you'll...

Euphoria

the ages that slashed away never witnessed the euphoria, of manufactured goodness. They lied in the experience, the originality of feeling seeping through, but we learned from their erosion, to create the perfect symphony. Of ages past. Left. Un-due.

I Wish to Write More

So, The title pretty much sums everything I wish to write here, I have been getting this urge again lately to write again, this is something I used to do almost daily. These days, however, unless it's academic, I barely write anything longer than a tweet. Hello everyone, I am twinkietalks and this is a...

Limbo

Limbo in the void, where the dark meets the light in shadows of eternal sunshine lies in wait, of the horrid kind. destined for the agony a new ceremonious celibacy cries. in the everlasting wait for demise the melding melded heart solemnly dies.

Wonder

With wonder in his eyes and a snotty little nose, leapt out of the wilderness a little boy of hope. gazing vastly at the horizons, amazed at the unison of the skies and sea. He felt a deep growing agony a void within the stormy seas, to  be filled with love and sanctity. Then came...

Dew of Dawn

Mildewed starry mornings of ashen laden dirt. Glistening silver pavements, in the ever-crusting rust. Moistened tips of gloominess, in the pleasant slumber sung. A sleepless soul in solitude, seeking refuge from the sun.

Empty Beds

I miss the human warmth, in all of these connections. A soul laying weight besides, un-tethered in its cryptic glory. the feel of a gentle cheek, on the hurting trembling chin. A wave of flowing hair, caressing the fingertips of sin. When exactly did I stumble this far beyond? Seeking warmth in an ocean of...

Guiltless

Guiltless The painted tips, the scented flow, of the river banks with infinite links. The sweet burn of cold. A supper made for silk. A journey that has no end, in a forest rid of guilt.

Wondering Thought

What defines humanity ? the lust of creation, the question of damnation, or the curiosity of the seeking mind? What aches Humanity ? the desecration of ideals, the moral compass of illumination, or the helpless wonders of the lonely kind ? Our innocence is merely tremor-ed, defiled by the numbness of the aching mind. The curiosity...