Waffles-Of-Gondolyn

the smell of ice and vampire bites thrill is in the air fright night – flashing sights , blurred lights & candy so bright . the scare of a clown when no one's around , terror abounds in cul-de-sacs of sound . run run run the shrieking rattle of death's bony fingers – oh my God ! never mind , just a Grim Reaper . & at 3 a.m. , when the cycles begin again — you know you've found the thrill in the sound of "Happy Halloween!"

 patterns of music whispered as she stepped over valleys of unmade beings , souls curtseying and clouds soaring joyfully . mountains burst into existence at the sound of her name . she had a smile to rival the moon's , and loved all the creatures made and unmade . Death was her closet friend . he courted her sweetly , teasing and playing like a young child as he tickled her ears and fancied her bare feet . red curls surrounded her head like a crimson halo , and when the sun rose they slept in golden grass , lace draping every tree . God saw this companionship and was jealous . he wanted the girl for himself , & spun

two lovers , eclipsed in eternity [ i don't want tomorrow to come ] colloquial conversations , come perch in the rafters with me and we'll spin gold out of straw and write our own fairy tales . [ i dressed myself in bleeding madras ] crusaders love your tenacity , your absentminded speech gives them ecstatic delight . but i want you to come home . capricious wind bites my feet , blankets crying as bare skin smothers dry bone . [ the halcyon days are long gone , luv . ]

{ i tread the labyrinthine maze of your body , railroad tracks carving your wrists to the bone , summer mornings blazing white and you're too saturnine for blowing bubbles in a painted cornflower sky and racing through lavender fields . } i. my mind's on hiatus . when i 'x' out your name and shatter the vial marked true love i'll remember when you said , " sometimes people need to drown before they can breathe again . " and our love was not made for movie screens , a wild tangle of erupted cowards , we willed ourselves damnation and earned every uncorruption . ii.   i'll pretend to sleep when you call my name { the ch

i. she is a sea witch , reading the storms like faces and shrouding their relationship in secrets , delicious – appearing apathetic , they slide together in public : congenial companions . ii. but static (s)mothers , friends ask too many questions and they run run run away together . iii. he is a wordsmith . carving , curling , manipulating is too mean , tasting his words like he tastes her lips , gently guiding , opening their full po(e)tential and blithely revealing . he won't hurt her  . she loves him . iv. flying colors , in the dark they sail together , succumb to each other , blessed provocations of

they say i should be a model : olive tanned skin , moist brown curls , dark eyes . but they don't see the scars hidden under my ribs , my fingernails , clamped tight like crab pincers . a clock inside my stomach counts down the hours , my navel the turning point of a long lost compass . tendons pull together cobweb strands of feathers , patchwork wings grace my shoulder blades . urban scrawl , too many damn lies crisscrossing , carving your kisses into my neck . [ in your dreams ] i sleep on my side in collapsed calamity . bony knees , thin shoulders , stand tall so they won't see the weakness inside of you i w

to the sweetest of melancholic creations : i notice you immediately : the Illusionist , you step up to your platform , refulgent eyes somewhere else . tonight there is no tent – you stand close to a woman wearing an almost-scandalous outfit : a skin-tight leotard with sapphire tones , accenting all-too perfectly her curves and flourishes . she acknowledges you with a tiny nod , and begins her performance . i watch her curiously , but immediately my eyes are drawn to you . you start the act with "simple" tricks – pulling a dove out of your elegant lace sleeves , pale fingers threading magic from the air , with the

For Siren a cackling - ahem , crackling - fire glows , warming the room . i see faces in it , covens of angels [ not innocent as they seem ] and your breath a rhapsody . i see you through the cracked-by-memories windowpane , fragments dancing through the heavy rain . trees whisper at your approach , the earth sighs against your legs , eager for another song . the door slides open , granting you entrance . someone pulls out a seat , a rusty-brown leather armchair . a piano sits at the corner of the room , and the cat occupying it mews and paws the crisp air floating in behind you . on it are music notes – piano , legato ,

a hazy , opaque sky reads fairy tales to me , a heart once innocent sees broad brush strokes – faded apathy and dull pyrite feathers ; your wings dream of golden glory . lovers from the old days — glittering skin and jewels between the teeth but coals turned to diamonds aren't as precious as they seem . hair dyed to the texture of straw , bleached dead and cleverly coated with the unloveliest nightmares . trust breaks him , he sees her desire and can't bear to look in her eyes . chained by his fear , she misunderstands and leaves him . doe-eyed , the fairy accepts his gift with slightly parted lips , the bas