[❝ ━ phosphenes; a journal]

[pretty bones]

a sickly nostalgia
runs through my veins
creeping up my skin
ruining me again

[pretty bones]

you're my pulse; constant, thriving, keeping me alive.
you're the deep blue of my star-lit veins, painting gorgeous patterns across my body.
you're the soft beats of my heart, comforting and so, so beautiful.

you're my life.

[pretty bones]

1. with gentle wings do you take flight. you rise high above, gripping my hand close to your heart. the winds sing of sweet love whilst rushing past us, making way for the dawn of a new time.

2. and it is sickly, how full you make me. you fill this mortal vessel of mine with honeyed days and tender nights. words are passed like crinkled notes from one to another, holding so much love in them that it overwhelms.

3. but oh, does icarus fall. there are bad times - for the two of us. yet, with your heart clasped within mine, we wade through the dark depths of swamps and moors, sallow and sticking to our skin like dark veins.

4. it is then we fly again. rising high once more, wind carrying us up, up, up. it's exhilarating, and my breath catches once I see your face again. time stops, but we continue our way, fingers intertwined.

[pretty bones]

hands clasped around her neck,
you reach deep into her soul -
quickly, swiftly
with your hands oh so cold.

a soft thrum of a slowing heart,
a wet warmth coating your arm,
it's all too dark -
and oddly too calm.

there is no fight left in her,
the once powerful bird,
nothing but ashes
and a voice none heard.

[pretty bones]

oh tired little soul,
won't you rest a while?
allow your heart
to reconcile.

[pretty bones]

let us go where time has warped;
where reality is in a state of between.
where everything is nonsensical;
where there's just you and me.