Born from ember, That's what I am. Born by crystallized blood, Born with the heart Of the phoenix.
Iron pierces my heart When tears hit my chest, But my pain It's green. You cannot hurt me. When your bullets Ricochet off my heart You will feel the glow Of my strength.
Your words, Your stick and stones, Your will to strike me down It ignites the fire, The will to be ember The will to be more than possible. I am more than bulletproof From your hate. I'm more than diamond From your iron. I'm more than titanium To your power. I'm unprecedented, I'm ubiquitous. I'm more than human. I am the phoenix.
As you can tell, I have seen Maleficent: Mistress of Evil this week. For this reason, I will be making odes to my favorite Disney Villains.
Crystals reflect in my eyes. The color is so clear, so sharp, It's like light blaring in my eyes: My eyes begin to cry. No dye, And the reflection, It tells no lies.
In the transparent crystals, I see the misty black. My horns My raven wings My feathery dress; It's all black.
But I have a heart; My lips are red as blood In the mist of the crystals.
But some bubbling liquid, Something that makes a fizzing sound Makes every color fainter. It's faint version of the hue Of my lips. Engulfing the crystal. Little bubbles, Little round crystals For the cylindrical Glass.
My soul, My colorful yellow-green eyes Are what reflect. They're all that's left.
I have great news. I’m going to be writing a book on here, but for this to happen, I need your input.
Comment below, please, with a yes or no: do you want to see a full-on novel exclusively on WordPress?
Youth is a treasure, It's meant for pleasure; It's meant for discipline; It's meant for sin.
Youth is a rose. When it blooms, Its beautiful, rich petals Your senses they consume. You are the sun— Your rays allow for the rose To grow. You are the water— You keep the rose Growing. You are the seed— You plant the possibility of youth.
But there are times when too much water Drowns the rose There are times when too much sun Dries out the beauty of the rose. Like a rose, Youth flowers just like the rose; It there for one season; Then it goes. The rose petals begin to wilt And just like that, the world is still.
Youth is a treasure. Youth is a rose.
In the strobe lights, Another Saturday night, Another party in my brain, Another rambunctious Sorry game, I see your face Beautiful like china, Beautiful as Paris.
You stick out Among a row of men In white collars And black suits.
Eyes Limpid pools Of ocean blue, Flitting from the cerulean screen Glowing against your face, And back to me.
The strobe lights begin to flicker, And the white collars disappear. The world is us If we establish thus A bond, If we establish thus A place Where we mix together like yin and yang, Together like melody and harmony.
The stitches of fate bind together. Warm intertwines with cold. Fire and rain neutralize. And the world curls into brightness.
Once upon a time.
Shadows. She sees shadows Shaped into the outline Of her demons.
Her breath. Her breath grows soft, Nothing more Than the gentle hum Of summer air.
But her thoughts. Her thought are cold. Cold as winter. Cold as ice. Sharp as a knife When she sees the shadows.
Her hands. Her hands, Once stretched into the light, Now curled into fists. Fists of darkness.
The shadows. The shadows, Gray as the world Carve into the darkness. The darkness of her chest.
Its cadence. Its cadence mimics the song of her heart. Her heart turns to stone.
Her eyes. Her eyes become blind. Blind to the darkness. Blind to the world bleeding before her.
The song in her ears. The song in her ears is a pulse of metal; Its refrain is a surge of crescendoing ire. It cuts her senses like a knife.
The world ignored her. But she ignored the world first. She overreacted, And strove to be the worst. What went first, And which went last Is not a question; It's a question of What came first And which came last: The darkness Or the loss of her youth Is now in the past.