Inside, within and enveloped, your mind knows best, yet your heart lingers on banter and crumbs of obsession. Hanging on the words of a dream, a twisted reality, you beg and pine for them to end your crush, yet they spin webs. Webs spun from silk and happiness, your body sewn, entombed. Warm and cozy your soul lays and dwindles, feeding off tossed hope and pieces of you. Your darkness talk comes from a place that you keep at bay and to yourself, you store yourself within yourself, to hide from your own insecurities. Like a crystal you are born from the depths, the bowls of a foreign existence.
The heart of a crystal is jaded, edgy and hard, and like its heart, yours mirrors a crystal only it’s encased in cages, sealed with muscles, lined with tissue and opening valves only at the right instances, filtering what you deem inappropriate to help you live. You filtered me out, made me part of the monotone colours that cover your canvas that you call the life. Born from earth, yet like a rock from distant galaxies, your mystery, your uniqueness captivates us. You crash into our soil with no respect for where you land or for who you land on, your crash took us by surprise and blinded me with your illusion and intrigue.
Sparks deter our vision and thoughts, your crystal blinds the mere mortal rocks, we lie around your crash sight, charred and burnt, yet not broken or faded. We heal ourselves by having happiness and support in our mortal mass, you stand alone, defiant and beautiful. As the tears of rain fall, water moves the crystal and stones together, like a blender we wash, rub and cut the crystal, deep, long and often painful cuts along the circumference of your body, yet, we still can’t penetrate the cages that guard your icy core. Unable to cut to change you, we cut to shape your fragile existence.
Through it all our journey was good, only deceit and strings pulled me away and got the better of me. The new carver is amazing, may they clean up your sharpness, abrasiveness and roughness, you need a strong steady hand to move your marble covered emotion. Play hard little crystal, you will end up wrapped around some body’s finger, an aesthetic, an object, a thing.
Sparkle, shine and gleam, self love, self hate, you are the perfect stone. Cold!
The heart of a crystal is jaded, edgy and hard, and like its heart, yours mirrors a crystal only it’s encased in cages, sealed with muscles, lined with tissue and opening valves only at the right instances, filtering what you deem inappropriate to help you live. You filtered me out, made me part of the monotone colours that cover your canvas that you call the life. Born from earth, yet like a rock from distant galaxies, your mystery, your uniqueness captivates us. You crash into our soil with no respect for where you land or for who you land on, your crash took us by surprise and blinded me with your illusion and intrigue.
Sparks deter our vision and thoughts, your crystal blinds the mere mortal rocks, we lie around your crash sight, charred and burnt, yet not broken or faded. We heal ourselves by having happiness and support in our mortal mass, you stand alone, defiant and beautiful. As the tears of rain fall, water moves the crystal and stones together, like a blender we wash, rub and cut the crystal, deep, long and often painful cuts along the circumference of your body, yet, we still can’t penetrate the cages that guard your icy core. Unable to cut to change you, we cut to shape your fragile existence.
Through it all our journey was good, only deceit and strings pulled me away and got the better of me. The new carver is amazing, may they clean up your sharpness, abrasiveness and roughness, you need a strong steady hand to move your marble covered emotion. Play hard little crystal, you will end up wrapped around some body’s finger, an aesthetic, an object, a thing.
Sparkle, shine and gleam, self love, self hate, you are the perfect stone. Cold!
No comments:
Post a Comment