Tag Archives: muse

The ideal me is still the same but more resilient. Not taller or smarter, because who would that be? A fantasy so built up the original is gone. I will not change myself, and you shouldn’t wish me to.

A village of the lingering, settling on the living like a heavy cloak on small shoulders. They’re too scared to let go, and you’re too scared to leave.

Your worse fear is to become a monster, to the point you’ll rip out your beating heart and crush it until your lifeless body is you again, your ideals trapped until you reach a world beyond a broken heart.

The two halves that made you do not own you. They can try to shape you but in the end you are your own fate. Change the world and never give up on your beliefs.

Missing a presence that never got to grow, a future planned that no one else dreamed of. Take my hurt with no context and think me crazy, not understanding the grief of a parent who never got to be one.

A weathered corpse of my good intentions rest behind, exposing sins too cold to whisper while my burning throat pours out lies you lap with eager tongues, and still I wonder who the world will pity more in the end.

Our last words were formal and cruel but no less true. A chance meeting to rescind those sentiments has a back turned, standing tall but shaking at the thought of what could have been.

Organise your corner of chaos and bask in the small order, ignoring all those looking in who see only mess and missing.

Restore the collapsed by stacking them on the new, forcing their weight down on strength until it’s gone and a newer batch will now be forced to carry them.

Imagine a magic that gives all a choice but eliminates heartache, would you cast it? Would it help?