in other words, the chaos that paves the path from birth till death
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Latest Posts by hades-in-a-handbag - Page 3
I've been here for a while but I really shouldn't stay.
There's an ache in my joints, makes it hard to get away.
I guess I was waiting for you to come and rescue me.
But you never even noticed and now I cannot leave.
@milknosugar-youtube
In response to your beautiful untitled song. This one is for you.
There's a sparkle in your eyes that twinkles so brightly I want to compare it to the stars in the sky, to nova's and galaxies far away. But these worn words have lost their strength in repetition. Instead, I will search for the words that cause that shine. I will do anything to keep you looking at me that way.
New witching hour
10 o'clock is the new witching hour. When you've run out of tv and fanfics to distract you from all the free time your wasting every day. When anything productive you could be doing with your time, anything that would mean something to your life, Writing, playing, traveling, trying to get published, Anything that you want to do for yourself is going to take too long and cut into the mandatory time you have to devote to outer society. Be it work or school we have to pay a time fee, an emotional fee, a physical fee, just to exist here.
10 o'clock when all the long hours of your short days are used up and out of reach. When it's responsible to go to sleep. To get those 8 hours so you aren't quite as dead to the world tomorrow as you could be. When the doubts and insecurities come creeping in between the hours of sleep and distraction. You dig for another show, video, book, fic, song, anything to keep you going until you feel like your eyelids are just heavy to fall before your thoughts get the better of you.
When the emotional vulnerability makes you fragile and everything from your voice to your reflection or hell one stray mannerism makes your self-esteem take a dive. Back in the good old days, all we had to worry about sneaking through the shadows in our rooms were monsters. Demons come to take your soul. What do you do when you are the demon. When the shadows are under your eyes. When all the ambition in the world has been pumped into since your ears opened to this world but as soon as you focus enough to see it. All you see is how it's wrong.
We're still kids. Whether your 17 or 30 your still just a kid. Because the definition of adult is emotionally stable. 3 kids, 2 cars, 1 husband and more zeros than you can count. Being an adult means maturity and when they've spent your entire life feeding you pretty lies about your future, how are you not supposed to feel inadequate?
I thought I knew what I was getting myself into
I thought I could be good for both if us.
I thought the butterflies were anticipation
But now I feel like I'm using you to get over my own insecurities
I'm not good at the whole girlfriend thing
I'm scared to see you as mine
Maybe I just need some practice
Maybe I just need some time
If I mess this up it's not your fault
After all my problems are mine.
My biggest fear
My biggest fear is the fade of feelings between two people. When you know someone so well, you can guess the next words out of their mouth. When the feeling of their hand in yours or their arm around your shoulders is more familiar than your own skin. When you could have picked them out of a crowd from any angle. When they call you because the tone of your texts changed and they wanna make sure you're alright. When the sound of their voice is clear as day in your dreams. when the smell of their shampoo brings back a hundred memories. When their hopes and dreams are the goals you work towards.
Somehow, suddenly, there's space between you. Someone else is higher on their list of priorities. The Space and time they asked for just to get themselves together stretches long and silent between you. When the constellations you memorized in their freckles fades to a random spatter of dots. When the hundreds of shades of color in their eyes fade to solid rings of primary color.
When every little thing you spent time learning about them fades, your brain un-learning its favorite things. When the connection you felt so easily between you sputters and dies even when they're sitting right across from you. When you have to start wondering “should I tell them this?”, “can I tell them this?”. When they don't come to you with their problems and you're too nervous to tell them yours. When you go from seeing them every day to every other week to “I saw him a couple of months ago”. When they used to be your best friend and now they're just a stranger whose secrets you still keep.
It drips and splatters over her forearms. Crusting along each delicate finger joint and congealing where it packed into the curve of each cuticle. Painting her skin gray like the dust of age and time.
It drips onto her shoes and stains the hem of her shirt. It falls in spinning splatters to soak the denim of her jeans in thick drops.
In this mess, she gives birth to something new. There, by the potter's wheel.
She tastes like the metallic burn of blood.
She smells like the pop of wood as the fire consumes it.
She feels like the static that clings to your clothes.
She looks like lightning as it cracks the sky.
And he fancies himself Zeus.
