Grey Academia - Blog Posts
Timid petals,
Fell on my lips
Rusted metal,
Bound on my ribs
Knew you wouldn’t settle
For anything but bliss
Here’s to my purity and insanity
I was a prisoner of fall,
A prisoner of fall
~ ghosts of tulips past :: 💌
I came wounded
To the shore.
Sure, it was foolish,
To hope,
To be soothed,
To be cradled,
To know less aches;
Lighter on the waves.
But I was too wounded,
Abrasions and bruises.
Surprise! I dived! I cried!
It burns, even the ocean.
The days I meet you, I am almost convinced, I can wear yellow.
- reign
I am trapped with myself. With no one else to be my hell, I am.
- reign
I hope it never escapes, the longing to call you today. I will hold it in my heart and let it decay, with the rest of me. Ah! Sure I will not forget you, do not fathom that I regret you. Know this, even if untold, I will see you in every spring leaf turned gold.
- reign
The word 'prodigy' never found its way near my name. Yet, all I hear from peers who used to be proud, now concerned, is ' you know too much.' And I ask, and I cry.
Did I fly too close to the sun again, Father? Am I falling?
- reign
I forget most in madness, sickness of my heart washes over these delicate memories I hold till they aren't. But something tells me, I will remember you, not as a warning, never that, more like warmth. I will know you as my gentle sun, less harsh than the real one.
- reign
I like grey skies
No moon, no stars
Just us
No hope in this world
But us
- reign
if i don’t live in a great ever expanding mansion that overlooks a moor and contains an overflowing library with an ornately carved spiral staircase and a multitude of secret passageways... what the heck am i even doing with my life?
just a hypothetical here but what if our eyes met across the floor of our English class. It would happen so spontaneously. We’d have been in in this class together for all of the semester but something about this day would make us both look up. From that point on we keep looking at each other. You’d watch as I’d scribble notes mercilessly into my copy of Jane Eyre, and I’d dream about the way you’d bite the tip of your highlighter as you focused. And one day we’d be paired together for a project on poetry in the romantic era. Of course we’d listen to the words of the great poets and live out of feeling, falling recklessly in love. And our relationship would come and go so quick our friends never would have known it happened. But for those two weeks we’d be each other’s soul and breath, and we’d spend our time spread out on the campus lawn, drawn close together with my head in your lap as we’d take turns reading gothic novels and our favorite poems to each other as we dined on fresh fruit and old wine.