Let the Christmas lights be the light in the eyes of the needy when they realise that longterm rescue has come.
Against the dark night sky all Steve could see was the crumbling walls that were nothing more than a ghostly silhouette of some previous existence. The wind whistled through the trees bringing with it the laughter of children who once lived there and the caring call of a mother letting them know dinner was ready.
Vividly he could picture his childhood. The walls didn’t seem so grey when he was only a boy, nor did they seem so small. In his mind he pictured this place as though it were a castle where he and his brother were the Princes. His mother and father would glide through the once pristine halls, the King and Queen of their kingdom. He felt like no time had passed since he moved from this house, yet as he gazed upon the overgrown bushes and the shattered windows it was evident just how wrong he was.
The clouds are puffs of white magic in acres of blue. They are the brilliance of a new page upon a sky canvas of such consistent hue.
Once I’d reached the edge of the forest I stood in front of the tightly knit trees and stared deep into the darkness ahead as if begging permission to enter. Then I respectfully stepped into the massive realm of woodland, and from the first footfall the whole atmosphere changed. The ground was spongy, like walking on foam, and as I put my full weight down the earth seemed to hug my boots and gently release them with each step. Scent from the foliage, mixed with the dampness and decay, danced through the air and tickled my nostrils, and sprinkles of dew that were lying in wait leapt from their hosts to anoint me with weepy atoms, and cooled my face with their misty kisses.
Her hazel eyes were a melt of autumn tones, fending off the winter frost. Freckles, light, delicate; sprinkled softly on her sun-kissed cheeks. Waves of brown hair that refract the sun's gentle light, penetrating it's smooth layers. She was a Goddess on Earth, a blooming flower amongst the leaves.
It was an old and battered briefcase with protruding tongues of leather. Its hide had known all weathers and rough treatments, enough to scar and mottle it.
Sometimes it is healthier to think of a future relationship as with a "mystery man," rather than with anyone you currently know. For me, it helps as a coping mechanism with uncertainty. I can have hope that someone good will come without the complications of other anxieties.
Alexander sat upon the cool metal bench, his trousers soaking up the damp morning dew, as he overlooked the sea. Darkness had not long surrendered to the light, yet he could see the thick grey clouds that were cast over the sky. The sea was tainted; no longer an abyss of black, nor did it appear blue. Instead it looked a metallic grey, glistening as the occasional spear of light pierced through the clouds and danced over the surface.
Whilst it may be unpleasant for the ninety percent of US adults to admit they have herpes, either as a coldsore on the mouth or on the genitals, it does serve as a great lesson in how stigmatisation feels.
Sleepless nights. Beat up conversation. Movie marathons - sci-fi, crime dramas, action. Chaotic good, bad - hell, just chaos. Five cups of tea in a morning. Leather jackets, ripped acid-wash jeans, dusty Bon Jovi tank tops. Wishing you you didn't care as much as you do. Corner store raids at 2am. Loud music in your ear buds, in your car, in your house - loud music in general. The sound and smell of a crackling bonfire. One too many drinks on the beach. Daddy's girl. Judging people who judge people. Tumblr trash. Fifty percent anxiety, fifty percent sadness. Rebels with big hearts. Guys that are awesome with kids. Confidence bordering on arrogance. Starry nights in the dead of winter. Tattoos that are like artwork - who am I kidding? Tattoos are artwork. Pastel hair, dark clothes. Dark hair, still, dark clothes. Greasy food in the middle of the night. Real music - that shit isn't on the radio. Fairy lights over your bed, posters lining the walls and ceiling. You and me against the world.
The theatre's white bricks are lit pink beneath the stars, and the sight of it enough to ignite a broad smile deep in my bones.
We are in a war where you offensive and wounding words storm through me, piercing my body like being struck with a sword a thousand times. Your every deed and action feels like an attempt of ambush to end me forever. My tears and my cries are my shield against your savagery and barbarity but still I know that around you I am defenceless and always will be defenceless. You have already attained victory in this one sided war but still your hunger and thirst for blood and torture is insatiable. And that's why this is goodbye forever. I deserve someone warm and affectionate, one who uses words kindly.