Cotton candy cane fields of wildfires of cinders combusting
on the heated winds of eddy's
Drawing on the breath of quick beneath a blood moon
Angel in the killing fields of love
Wings rapt around the night
A ravens feather of quill of shadows dancing in the flames
A scarecrow ablaze
Encircled in a ring of fire
Black smoke in the aftermath fuelled the furnaces of heavens light
.Megalomania + Schizophrenia. by HannahPhantom6, literature
Literature
.Megalomania + Schizophrenia.
Well, if youre the Joker, honey,
then just call me Harley Quinn
and well be smiling to the end, my dear,
cause these skulls can only grin.
so fill your head with smoke and jokes
and well be laughing as we die
so strike the match and bring the light
Ive no reasons left to lie...
Oh, Im in love but out of luck
and getting sick of I fucked up
Im sure you never really knew me anyway.
My wishes bend and break in two
and I know that I cant stay with you
But believe me, Ill be dreaming
till the end of days.
Firestorms and cactus spines
and the heart Im lac
Lost, Now Found
Green used to be my favorite color:
It was the shade of your hair whipping
In the wind as we raced down the road
to escape the Bat.
Green is still my favorite color:
Every time I look into green eyes
That sparkle with morning dew
Clinging to tender leaves and blades of grass.
I used to fear the color red:
It was the color of the marks
That would appear on my arms, face, neck
With a quick, regretless move of your hand
Now I admire red strands of hair
Catching lights in a fiery mane;
They burn with a color that warms me, but never harms.
I was once held in arms of white flesh:
It was never a hold that said you
On this day is love so grand?
How does this change from before?
Now it seems like a simple brand,
but love is love and not a law.
It comes and goes like little black swallows,
you can choose with the heart and mind;
than just the face in which you might follow
a path that's blind and entwined.
Oh the lost and alone do not weep,
the stars can only start to spring and sprout
as the coils of clockwork are truly deep
it can be hard to find and come about.
Time is time do not rush,
one day I am sure you will find that crush.
"i have dreams of you," he says. "you're out walking the dogs. or at the store. or sometimes you're laying in bed with one of your headaches."
he rocks his chair forward.
"you were so beautiful, with your hair fanned out on the pillow like a flower. i miss the delicate curve your wrist bones when you'd press your thumb and middle finger to your temples to stop the pounding in your head. you'd be completely still, tangled in the white sheets, like a body at the morgue come unexpectedly to life."
he rocks his chair backward.
"you'd lay there all day, wouldn't you? cradling your head in your hands, fingers crawling on your face like spiders
He left today.
The fourteenth of February.
A celebration of love turned sour
The roses wilting on the path
Around your numb bare feet
As you sit, trembling, disbelieving
Clutching at your heart.
How did it end like this?
Disagreement, anger and tears
And an indigo bruise upon your arm
Mind flicking through the memories
That he just stole away.
Your paper dreams in tatters
Torn butterflies on the breeze
Sodden with the sky's cold tears
Beating out their harsh melody
Upon your fragile roof.
Drip, drop.
Time stops.