Are the lonely mornings worse than the lonely nights?
You are the stars and I am nothing but the relentless air that holds you up
Because I really do enjoy and find satisfaction in staying up until the early rays of morning reading even though my eyelids feel ten times older than I do.
I like people that have an extensive vocabulary that stretches vastly over the dingy vernacular we practice in this inconspicuous place because it makes conversation more amusing, and it’s nice to find somebody who actually has a clue as to what they’re talking about and seems to hold some knowledge of the hidden words that most people don’t know about since the majority of people that I unfortunately encounter have a plethora of impertinence scalding within them that can be seen transparently from my perspective. The conclusion of this makes me evasive and not want to exchange words with them which results in me gathering an abundance of distaste and hatred towards whoever because in my view, the way we use words reflect our level and concentration of civilization that we can only inherit from within ourselves and cannot be taught nor received, but by gaining knowledge of that we are intrigued by.
It need not matter how good or bad you are nor how many sins you have done for it is a true fact that we all must fall to our knees and onto our chests one day or another.
Cold hearts and warm minds.
Black walls close around me
I can barely breath
A ring of light shines above me
But I know it’s out of my reach
My breaths are low and shallow
The walls start caving in
The floor below my feet dissolve
As I fall into depression
I try to find something to cling to
To hold on to to stop my fall
But there is nothing there
As I feel around the wall
I hit a hard surface and slowly sit back up
I see blank faces staring at me
And my anger starts to erupt
They’re the faces that put me in this place
The place in where I stand
The cold and dark and empty place
Who hold my blood in their hands
I feel around the ground
And touch something hard
I put it to my head and remember all my scars
I put my finger on the trigger
Hoping they will see
See the pain beneath my shell
The real person inside of me
I feel the tears sting my cheeks
My heart pounding so fast
I feel my blood go cold
My soul breaking away like glass
The last thing I remember
Were the blank faces that I saw
I watched them turn their backs on me
Laughing like nothing was wrong
like thy instagram photograph
A poem by Dannica Ramirez
I want to sleep in the crevices of your soul.
To be with you under a sky of lights while the sun has shied away and the moon has displayed itself above a canopy of stars while the soft hum of music is slowly drifting through the wind and the embers of a slow roasting fire is crackling away, is a place in which I would like to be in all aspects of my timeline.