it even rains in my soul"get back inside,"it even rains in my soul by bloody-magpies
as i stand without an umbrella
under the pouring rain,
"you'll catch a cold!"
that's the least of my concerns
my body aches to remember
a time when happiness
wasn't just a word;
the child in me is lazy
and likes to jump in puddles,
pretending they lead to an
each rain droplet
slips through my shirt
[the one i got at church camp
back about 10 years ago now]
and reminds me of what they
taught us there - Jesus saves.
what if i don't want to be
i'd rather drown in my tears
than to have someone
from the drenches of
my own being?
For the BoatmanCharon, I still keep the constellations in jars. You will not take me across the Acheron, so I wait on the river bank, trying to steal pennies from other passengers. I hear them clinking in your hull, ferryman, forgotten and oxidized. You call me by my name, even now.For the Boatman by SomethingOnceSacred
"Persephone is dead, and her king never heard you crying out as I have."
I sang a hymn for you, Charon, but you only smiled and turned away.
Charon, have you met the slighted king? When he called, I answered, but his memory was just as rotten as mine. I had loved him with my own shadow, once. Ferryman, have you ever been in love?
"Stay on the shore. There are those who would see you swallowed whole. Little one, stay on the shore."
No one told them they couldn't swim to Tartarus. Sometimes, I believe I knew them better before you refused my paper stars.
Charon, am I drowning again? Or has there always been saltwater here? They never said anything.
"The inbetween is purging itself of you."
No one's joi
House Of MemoriesI have come home again today my dear house of memories. I give to you my greatest gift of mind so that you may bare the ripest of fruits, so that you may be the tallest among willows, and so that you will never fade. I only ask is that you share your riches; the knowledge that I once watered you with. Well it is true you know me the best. I dare say that it is the same as you know.House Of Memories by TheInfernoVoid
For I always come and venture there within your halls slowly striding along, but before I creek open your doors I breathe in the cold air and watch the green grass bend. The sun here is neither too high nor too low and even the shadows are never to deep nor the light ever too bright. You carry about you a fondness, a warm air I believe. The breeze of remembrance and nostalgia fill the wind, but each speck of your existence forms the cosmos. Emotions and feelings beyond emotions. Understanding you and I. I share this with you, my final waters, so you may grow.
The Boy and the SailorThe little boy stopped in front of the elder sailor, admiring the man’s stagnant position along with his strong posture. The sailor continued to smoke his decrepit pipe, unaware of the boy staring at him. The boy contemplated what he should do- whether to tap the man before asking him questions or just to start asking them aloud. As the boy pondered over what he should do, the old sailor finally took notice of the well-dressed school boy in front of him.The Boy and the Sailor by Pauper-Circumstance
“What do ya want, sonny?” the sailor asked.
“I don’t rightly know, sir,” the nervous boy replied.
“Ain’t ya or ain’t ya not goin’ ask me something?”
“I’m not sure what to ask you.”
“Well, ya better ask me quick cause I’m liable to drop dead any second.”
“Lemme think, sir. Why do you wear your anchor tattoo on your leg instead of your arm?”
“Keeps me grounded this way I don’t fly away like them balloons.”
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