Admantina

i may be drowning but i'm not yet dead

Writer’s block Is not so much oblivion - rather A white haze It is an incessant hum Like cicadas in sticky summer air         (sans sun and lemonade) Deafeningly bland Drowning. In white noise

In another time and place, they might have been pilots, artists, engineers or doctors. They might have had loved ones to hold, a family to raise. A sense of what it is to have a home with food and water and no want for money. But instead they are thieves, robbers, beggars and prostitutes. They are the children with the empty eyes, watching you pass in your Abercrombie sweater and Prada handbags. The silence of lost hope deafening each step you take. They are broken promises and unfulfilled dreams, each star that fell without a sound.

Hope is a faint lin ger ing... of silver peppermint, brushing, drifting, at the tip of our tongues.

Failure tastes bitter, like over-brewed coffee left too long in the cold.

You used to write me letters In beautiful emerald ink Loops and swirls      (and always,  I love you,  a heart) I treasured those letters if only because it meant keeping a part of you      (the only part you'd ever let me keep anyways) I smashed open my piggy bank and searched every store Tried on a thousand and one shades of green. I was convinced that if I just found the one It'd mean neverending letters      (and neverending you                     &

He kisses her until crimson roses bloom on her lips and spill down her alabaster skin like sinful pomegranates from Persephone's own mouth. He crushes her against him, holds her tight-tight-tight in his arms and tattoos black and blue flowers across her back No one will hurt you while I'm around. He whispers the promise with scarlet lips and a silver tongue and stains her ears a poisonous black Her hair sticks to his lips-tongue-mouth while his vows engrave themselves upon her heart No one will hurt you... He watches her eyelids slip, gracefully, blissfully With his promises lingering, sparkling, upon each 'lash And only then doe

If love were like water to be measured, in precious crystalline drops I wonder what the beaches of your heart would look like.

Today, Mommy brought home two balloons for us. A yellow one for me and a blue one for Jack. They were so pretty! Mine even had a star on it. I felt bad that they were tied down by the string though. I told Mommy but she just called me silly like she always does. Then she took Jack's hand and told me to hurry inside before it starts snowing. I like the snow. It makes our house look like a magic fairy palace. I was worried about my balloon though. What would happen to it if it snowed? I looked up at my yellow balloon. It really was very pretty, especially with that star. Mommy used to sing us lullabies about stars and diamonds before, before