Musing

I may not have loved often.
But I have loved enough.

Tiny Tale Attempt

I recently came across something called Terribly Tiny Tales, on Facebook. Attempts at writing entire stories in 140 characters, spaces and punctuation included. The idea intrigued me.

Attempt No. 1



"Princess," he smirks. "Gets everything you want." Slams door. She cringes. Years later, a note scrawled on the wall with a fingertip, in blood - "I didn't get YOU."

Attempt No. 2

"So much freedom!" jealous friends sigh. "No curfew, no calls!," they mouth, while concerned parents on the other end of the phone line ask where, when and with whom questions. She smiles, swigs beer. And wishes, at least that night, just once, her phone would flash the words, "Home Calling."

My wings.
Bloody.
As things ripped apart always are.
Jagged edges.
From a serrated knife.
Where my dreams may fall and shatter.
From today
I too shall tread the earth.
Mortal. Ordinary.

Moonlit dreams and first views of sunrise
You were wise, Oscar
Wise, to know that dreamers
who dream by moonlight
are forever punished
by being the first to view glaring sunlight.

My wings
Yours
Take them
Burn them
Smear yourself in the victory ash
But know this
I dream with my soul
I dream with my heart
And that
No knife can touch.
Not even yours.
My soul soars forever more
Perfect
Untouchable

My only consolation
The knife that ripped was mine
I ripped the wings from my heart
Bloodied bruised and broken
Not you.
For I know
Broken wings heal
And even angels fall

Musing

I may not need your approval.
But I do not deserve your hatred...

Lies

Pretend all you want
so you can sleep at night
until the dream implodes
in the harsh light of day

Pretend all you want
that the horizon is endless
swim in circles
and say the world is round

Pretend all you want
that freedom exists
that choice is a fact
that life isn't bound

Pretend all you want 
until you smack and bleed
against the glass sides
of your goldfish bowl