everytime the wind blows, it shoots mist through my window.it sprinkles onto my bare skinlike dust on an empty road.each rain drop is a drip of feeling.they coat my skin until every inch of my body is feeling something new.the cold drops land on my skin and the wind blows further, sending my wet skin into a frenzy of shivers.the sky lacks colour. the sun is envious of the clouds taking over the sky.they move in a swirling motion, staring at the sky is like being in a whirlpool of emotionsi feel hollow, but somehow so full. something new in me blossoms. i feel so real. 

everytime the wind blows, it shoots mist through my window.
it sprinkles onto my bare skin
like dust on an empty road.
each rain drop is a drip of feeling.
they coat my skin until every inch of my body is feeling something new.
the cold drops land on my skin and the wind blows further, sending my wet skin into a frenzy of shivers.
the sky lacks colour. the sun is envious of the clouds taking over the sky.
they move in a swirling motion, staring at the sky is like being in a whirlpool of emotions
i feel hollow, but somehow so full. 
something new in me blossoms. 
i feel so real. 

3/8/2011 . 11 notes . Reblog
Meaningless words fill my head. I am a collage of where, why and how. I am in a very dark room. There is no door in nor out and I’m not sure how I ended up here. It’s as simple as that. My eyes squint and adjust to the little light in the room. There are stairs and a window. The rod-iron stairs twist and curl; spiraling into the sealed ceiling. From the fogged over street light outside, I can make out the glowing of the spider webs; wrapped around each stair in the most knotted and complicated way. The streetlight reflects onto the webs and I stare at the home of the spiders I cannot see. I resist stepping closer to get a better glimpse of the oddly beautiful webs. I think there is a tree outside, but the rain is free-falling gorgeously. I’m not sure if it’s simply the rain making the rumbling outside, or the leaves swaying in the wind. I hear a screech in the sky and illuminating light flies through the window. Rain falls hard against the window, my ears are filled with the pounding thud of angry rain drops hitting the glass. My mind tries to focus. But I squeeze my eyes shut before my mind starts playing tricks on me. There are no eery shadows outside. I am alone. The only footsteps I hear are my own. The steps I hear are in sync with my heart beating. One deep breath and I continue scanning the room. There are candles in each corner, burning away incandescently. They outline the barriers of the room and fear sets in when I realize that the walls are much closer together than they original appeared to be. In the middle of the room, atop the cold marble floor is a bouquet of month old roses, and with each rush of the wind passing through, it quivers against the dead plant, and tiny pieces of baby’s breath and rose petals flutter to the floor. They bleed against the dripping window. I can’t help but marvel at the beauty of watching the colours swirl around the floor while the thunder rages outside. It’s almost as if the sky is angry that the colours are infusing together into one. I curl up underneath the window while the electrifying lightning brilliantly kisses my skin. Cool rain drops drip down my neck getting stuck in the crease by my collarbone. I do not dare to wipe them away. My body feels peacefully in tune with nature and for once, I feel beauty in the most raw way.

Meaningless words fill my head. I am a collage of where, why and how. I am in a very dark room. There is no door in nor out and I’m not sure how I ended up here. It’s as simple as that. My eyes squint and adjust to the little light in the room. There are stairs and a window. The rod-iron stairs twist and curl; spiraling into the sealed ceiling. From the fogged over street light outside, I can make out the glowing of the spider webs; wrapped around each stair in the most knotted and complicated way. The streetlight reflects onto the webs and I stare at the home of the spiders I cannot see. I resist stepping closer to get a better glimpse of the oddly beautiful webs. I think there is a tree outside, but the rain is free-falling gorgeously. I’m not sure if it’s simply the rain making the rumbling outside, or the leaves swaying in the wind. I hear a screech in the sky and illuminating light flies through the window. Rain falls hard against the window, my ears are filled with the pounding thud of angry rain drops hitting the glass. My mind tries to focus. But I squeeze my eyes shut before my mind starts playing tricks on me. There are no eery shadows outside. I am alone. The only footsteps I hear are my own. The steps I hear are in sync with my heart beating. One deep breath and I continue scanning the room. There are candles in each corner, burning away incandescently. They outline the barriers of the room and fear sets in when I realize that the walls are much closer together than they original appeared to be. In the middle of the room, atop the cold marble floor is a bouquet of month old roses, and with each rush of the wind passing through, it quivers against the dead plant, and tiny pieces of baby’s breath and rose petals flutter to the floor. They bleed against the dripping window. I can’t help but marvel at the beauty of watching the colours swirl around the floor while the thunder rages outside. It’s almost as if the sky is angry that the colours are infusing together into one. I curl up underneath the window while the electrifying lightning brilliantly kisses my skin. Cool rain drops drip down my neck getting stuck in the crease by my collarbone. I do not dare to wipe them away. My body feels peacefully in tune with nature and for once, I feel beauty in the most raw way.

6/4/2011 . 11 notes . Reblog