May 2009
1 post
an electric heartbeat and storybook eyes….
(incomplete)
February 2009
3 posts
there is no saving tonight
i slept in the cinema and cried over you.
there is always too much all the time too much but i manage to look like i’m only ever sitting still staring at the carpet while i am shifting constantly trying to lessen the pain and understand all the beauty i can feel in each moment but there is too much all the time
where there is fire, we take gasoline & we polluted ourselves again
love, smoke
January 2009
12 posts
m
e
s
s
y
mind.
oh cinders,
you might not think it to look at me, but i adore this world. walking home under slate gray skies, waiting for the train under the castle lights. the way his hips are hard when we’re sleeping in. watching the day fade into night, & back into day again. & i adore the songs the ocra whales sing about milky twilights, moonlit floors, that old broken tree-house & its...
PAINT THE TOWN GOLD NAILVARNISH&PAINT&GLITTER!
without you, i’ve been painting shipwrecks in the attic, tiny hands clinging to driftwood & big monster waves. the skies are always dark blue. the glitter always spills wrong. tiger sharks & treasure chests. without you, i have been blowing heart shaped smoke rings & listening to our songs on repeart. cherry cigarettes & blackberries. without you, i danced little whirlwinds...
i promise you, if we hold hands long enough, if we squeeze our eyes tight enough and wish hard enough, the things that might now be best for us, but certainly make us happiest will find us. the nights of intoxicated smiles, smoky laughter, wide eyes and kissing. nights that begin before the sunset and go on long after sunrise, nights that ruin our bodies for days, make our tummys flip and feel as...
we move like ghosts at times. others like true bloods. i told you before we are accidental & we’ll end, just how we started, holding hands on a victorian morning.
& i need you. need you for homemade treasures & lost eyelashes & secrets & frosted windowpanes. need you the next morning when i make mistakes i can’t confide in others. & i know why you doubt me...
my heart wears armour made from gold, somehow you still find a way to get inside.
GOOD KIDS MAKE BAD GROWN UPS
dreams
we dream, we dream wild dreams, we dream of far away adventure lands, finding smiles of pearly teeth and eyes full of shine, we dream fantasies, ships sailing through skies, castles in the ocean, houses made from sweets.
we dream, we dream romance never dies, we dream of butterflies in tummys and shivers dow spines, tempation, lust, naughtyness, things we want most, we dream of drunken street...
KILL ME WITH KISSES.
you are a nymph girl take boys hearts in the night keep them for yourself hold onto them tight.
i stare at you all the time, only because i’m scared that you’ll disappear when i am not looking…
December 2008
2 posts
midnight
Walking round the city, following the lights,
Ideas fly out of firework like minds.
Eyes shine like stars, teeth smile like pearls,
Heart beating double time (boom boom boom)
Don’t let witch girls cast spells on your heart
Their potions will never last.
13th december
a million and one dreams have come true, romantic lullabies and dreamlike bedtime stories, stars shine brightest when they fall in love.
cinderella’s sister has gone to the midnight dances, the mice are chasing the cats, safest safetys and most hidden promises.
bunny ears and rats tails, fire with sparks falling out, hidden secrets, couting down the days to tell.
deminishing wishes and...
November 2008
3 posts
i wonder if i have forgotten how to write. but no, cinders, not yet
sometimes i think that i forget my feelings, i forget how to feel them. they brush lightly against me like moths finding their way in the dark. loneliness mostly. moths know loneliness. but writing isn’t ever the same to me.
it’s only that, if we don’t write for us, we get lost, don’t we?
we can’t help it see, once the words...
one week later,
i think that i have finally found the ability to maybe share a few secrets of a haunting (in the best haunting way) weekend.
hallows eve came with it’s surprises, mis-haps and mis-shapes, there are still a few butterflies left in my tummy who seem determined to stay there.
romance found it’s way into our circus house, unfortunate mess did too, inside and out,...
naive/me;
Lacking worldly experience and understanding, especially: Simple and guileless; artless: a child with a naive charm.
Unsuspecting or credulous: “Students, often bright but naive, bet—and lose—substantial sums of money on sporting events” (Tim Layden).
Not previously subjected to experiments: testing naive mice.
Not having previously taken or received a particular drug: persons...
October 2008
9 posts
oh cindersss,
i’ll see him in every postcard from paris, every song and every film they ever wrote about france. paris is nostalgia, and the sky changes colour every twenty minutes or so. we’ve been sharing baths, kisses, cigarettes, bruises, dreams and hopelessness. the ice was thin overseas, but somehow i’m suddenly much colder alone.
so my homecoming is now. let’s...
your heart is like a hand me down, something to pass around and around.
come home snow angel, there is a blanket of white dust waiting for you.
love, cinders
dear smoke, oh my gosh the city you have left me in might as well be a rubbish bin,
it’s okay though because between siftling through the trash we found some pretty surprises which will be stories just for your ears by the time you are home. i might even send the stories over to yours and his pretty faces with bats, or owls.
dress up, cauldrens of posionous liquids and casting spells will...
my cinders,
little star, tomorrow i leave for paris. we’ll sit on the eiffel tower, drink pink champagne and shout things in french at the traffic about love. romantic whiplash and cigarette clouds made of kisses. i’ll be home before the time to hide from witches and little monsters in the shadows. catch it quick, its the stuff that spells are made of. i love you always and all...
darlin, darlin smoke!
i make a promise to you and to the stars and back that neverland and nymphs night can exsist more than ever now. the candles were blown and the wishes were made. they can come true as well you know, as long as you cast the right amount of magic.
a number, a number, that it all this is. we can count forever yet never reach the end. i promise that we can do that too, never...
cinders, cinders, cinders
she says that nobody can play peter and tigerlily forever. we have to grow up soon because time is real and neverland is not. even if you stop all the clocks and never blow your candles out again.
but she has never felt electricity like this.
tonight we’ll drink to seventeen on the green, count the stars on our backs and in their eyes and let the night swallow...
dear cinders,
we’ve been drinking fake champagne in basements, tracing summer’s footprints and finding our drunken alter-egos. watching Carrie find her fairytales and sleeping under blankets of pink dust. we’re moving, we’ve moved, we’ll move. there’ll be black and white keys playing and dancing on the hardwood. there’ll be spices from India, thrown out the window so that the...
get ready, darling. we’ll show you high highs, low lows and adventures we made up all by ourselves. homemade haircuts and the small parts of your dreams. we’ll show you our diary, if you show us yours. we’ll show you the city lights you never saw before. we’ll show your our revolution.
and how to kiss (and tell.)