dusk to dawn

nightfall

shatter my world

the golden leaves, and black conquers all,

and shadows' lives fade

like diluted watercolors

until nothing remains

so i will sing to myself

and the moon

and wonder who else in portland is awake

waiting for the sky to break again in day

when my skin and city will become more than

monochrome

Top!

Sunshower Dance

On spring days where I live 

The rain falls down

Cloaking me

In a gentle shower 

A sunshower 

On spring days when I thrive

The clouds show tears

Tears of joy

Even the sun has come to watch me Dancing

Dancing in the rain

On these days which I love

Pluviophiles

Are like me 

Spinning faster through the falling rain

The Sunshower Dance

i recently posted this poem but now i added another stanza please can someone give input good or bad

I wrote this recently! It's an acrostic poem; it was surprisingly easy to write though. Apparently "unsatisfication" isn't a word but I'm sticking with it :P

"hope is the thing with feathers" 

catch my dreams in feathered nets, take my

stars and shatter them, count up their

faults; it gives me a little hope, to know that

something so beautiful can be

imperfect too.  

Chara

~~~~~~~~~~ 

I hold the gaze of the young man standing in front me, all of his muscles clamped up in determination; if it hadn't been for the pain in his familiar eyes that betrayed him, I would have thought that he was happy to get rid of me, at this point.

"Tara-" his voice comes out broken and wispy, the myriad of emotions swimming just beneath his face subconsciously drawing me in, but I push this feeling aside reluctantly. "Please."
Those tired eyes seem plead a silent "stop."

I force my face to remain a mask of apathy, then manage to sneer scornfully. 

"You're the last one left." I taunt, biting back the gagging that I had triggered with my own audacity.

He looks like he's about to say something, but I cut him off with a cruel laugh; I know what I'm doing. What I'm getting myself into. And somewhere, deep down inside, I regret all of this. I suppose "Pandora" might fit me better than "Tara" looking back at what's happened. Even now, as my pretty little world had been torn down before my eyes, crumbling around me. Everyone gone, shattered by my own hands; yet, I still just had to see what would happen. 

Even looking at this man, hardly older than a boy, burdening so much responsibility; the only person in my life who had never, ever hurt me, not even on accident, in such agonizing pain from watching me fall like this. And trying to stop me.

He certainly wasn't perfect. Not by a long shot. Those times when he spoke in riddles, complete nonsense just to irritate me, when he played the part of the "bad guy" to those around him so that they could be happy, the scheming and colluding behind his little brother, who was the only one he seemed to really care about, the terrible puns that he always thought were hilarious, those teasing grins and winks. But looking back on it, perhaps my annoyance was unwarranted; but then again, hindsight is always 20/20.

My resolve had wavered before. However, each time I would smother it, all in the name of knowledge, prizing answers above everything, even lives themselves.

Now I doubt myself more than ever, hating myself for being so indecisive, for nearly falling prey to the guilt that bear tore me apart at times such as these. And with that, I steel myself again, putting on that despicable mocking expression as I take a firm step towards my doom.

I know that he won't be the death of me;

I will win. 

Just like I always have. Just like I did with all of them. He's not special. Not like I am. 
All the while, I know that with this last shred of my little world brought to destruction, I'll be gone. I simply won't be able to manage. 

Tat. Tat. Tat. -- my feet push the ground away forcefully.
Da-dump. Da-dump. Da-dump. -- I hear the heart that I surely don't have after all that I did.
Shhkreeeeeeee -- The metallic sound of my brain protesting my tyranny through a headache, blaring.

But I know I can't turn back, even if I wanted to.

Wings and things 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Wings
that melt
yielding to a
blazing sun,

Wings
that snap
like toothpicks
braving tempest winds,

Wings
that shatter
at the gazes
of others

And
give out
when needed
most.

Wings
that carry
far
and wide,

That open
new chapters
to a
set-in-stone story,

Braving
the currents,
the storms,
the sun;

Yet
give out
when needed

most. 

Another stroke of ink,

another string, snapped--

gone;

and so too is the life

that long ago had just

begun.

But soon it becomes clear,

This is not a burden nor 

punishment,

but rather the long-awaited

blessing that life had so begged,

finally sent.

The warm embrace of the one

who calls itself "Death;"

Finally, the first genuine smile

before that final breath. 

Words Notes Thoughts

Stanza's Music Thinking 

Sentences Melodies Expanding 

Literature Orchestrated Formulating