sprinkledinfinity

When the tip of fire and ash touched her leg, she paused, a palpable comma in the night and felt the smirk curl on her face. She tells the story of escaped virginity with sunshine in her voice, mimicking that morning sky, too early and too weak for her eyes to adjust, but she wants her voice to fury, scrape against the flesh of those too curious, too naive to believe that somehow, four years was enough time. There is a rush to remembering, like sinking slowly into frigid water, limbs so heavy there's no resurfacing. Their eyes grow weary, struck by the urge to blame: How dare she? How dare she trap us in a whirlwind of pi

I'll forgive you if you fake that smile again, trace my hipbones like I'm made of glass, but grasp my hand with painful passion. Those eyes burn through mine, wishing these saccharine sapphires could cool those flexed muscles, taught veins, that wild ache for a high my kiss can't give. I'll give you all my warmth if you just pretend I'm as irresistible as you, as a mouth full of rum, a memory your mind has disintegrated by morning. I'll hold on to this irrationality simply to feel lost in possibilities again. I'll forgive you for telling me I'm beautiful and utterly worthless, if you forgive me for my in

"I think I'm going blind." My eye is bloodshot, a blistering red that greeted me this morning. It's rejecting contacts and solutions, oozing tears and giving everyone on the right side of me the advantage of not being properly seen. That's why I went to sit to your right, so I could turn my head and see if your eyes watered along with mine. I didn't saying I was leaving. Or that I was unhappy. But I was saying exactly that. Your eyes aren't watering. Your mouth hardly opens. I trust that you are breathing from an occasional sigh. You offer up a break. Like the judge offering a deal in court, I sold you out so I'd get less time behind bars

One You whisper, afraid to touch, to speak loud enough for this fragile flame to flicker at your rapid breathing. Our shadows drag across the walls, hands brushing, uncertain of the beige-walled labyrinth ahead. Pulling back the curtains as if a bolted door, I'm blinded by the flood of grey skies sunshine, a ship sinking under the pressure of streaming oceans, my lips tremble a last breath before we both go under.                         Two            

I said you'd be more likely
 to drown in the bathtub 
than to watch me leave you.

 Now you're coughing up water
 behind the locked bathroom door 
 while I search through 
couch cushions for my keys. 

I guess I was right.
 Bittersweet victory.

Seven million women – a number staggering in inconceivability -- with eating disorders, in these United States, starving away stamina, purging pink, plump skin. Seven million women obsessing, plotting, revolving around the same  misguided decision, in the grand U.S.: Unhealthily Skinny, Unbearably Serious, Utopia, Starved. They've turned their backs -- spines jutting out, ready to tear tender flesh like razors pressed against fabric -- on doctors, parents, religions. Damned themselves to lives of suffering in simplicity. Seven million women tainting the country, masses flashing ribcages like wicker baskets under

"AND what is love?" His words mock the plague on youth, the intoxication left only for the young, the foolish and weak, water-color rose cheeks and pomegranate-stained lips, trapped in what they believe, all they can feel. Envy, their world hardly stretches a year, basking in sunlight, so warm on skin already burning. True freedom, youth brings the world to its knees, forgetting the bliss of warm pavement at midnight, wrapped in whispers, another secret the summer sun illuminates, caressing the brief life of love, young and destructive, tremendous and scarring. Envy, their love will never fade from their mind, but i

lock me in a moment, trapped in the wrong story, trembling at a voice like winter sunshine, the sunset on my skin, an unchained melody. nervous rapture, worthless to a ghost, fingers curled in the luscious shame of an casual touch. look away, those fiendish eyes burn through each word clinging to my tongue, my breath won't hold long enough. submission to pulsing shadows, ideal poison, this nefarious charmer flutters in my mind, teasing with every courageous dare. illusions, searching over ashen ribs, azure velvet veins, discover fear of the darkness, pretending words could even say. ask me for patience, but time sto

A glimmer of her through the vivid smoke of this garden of giants, alluring poisonous vines burn her ankles, a wildflower herself. Suspicious of falling sleep, locked in this quest for wings, weightless, the shredded pieces of her reflection. The lucid pause in his nonsense whispers, brings her vacant eyes up to plead that icy voice to draw her again into a deceptive fantasy, the secret behind those masked eyes, the master of time, the promise of her curled fingers, modest and aching to trace the gentle dips of his knuckles. Leaning her wistfully against walls of jagged glass, shimmering as they are drenched in liq

her words are her scar tissue, fresh wounds spilling weakness when she answers his confused face, never knowing if sound will escape, a toast to silence, unraveling her beautiful sanity. never blessed with unashamed lips, claustrophobic when he's not around, catch her holding her breath when he steps near, the art of dismay, muffled whispers hidden behind trembling hands, tender lips. the one breath she felt in time with her own, ragged and deep, their eyes averted, her heart racing, breath fighting, screaming down the sun, we're only playing hide-and-seek. he's speaking words she can't understand, a separate languag

That mirror's not magic it'll tell you what you want it'll tell you who's the fairest it'll tell you who to haunt but the only thing behind that glass is bright silver paint to match the tongue you thought you had until just today so what's the catalyst that had all this dismantled? What kind of kingdom waits beyond the branches the brambles? Well, the scratches from your searching haven't had their fun yet but before you find your Eden, you'll probably bleed to death.