Muse 126: butterflies

found via 365vignettes

I was walking on the beach when I saw a butterfly. Its brown wings were the colour of wet sand, the black lines, neat dark grooves drawn by my pinky. The butterfly was neatly pressed, like a dried flower in between pages of books, into the shaven rocks, unmoving. I felt sad, my heart getting heavier by the second. This butterfly, magically kept perfect underneath this shoe, caused the world to collapse around me. My tears would be for this single butterfly, a beautiful winged creature that represented a class of metaphors beyond simple description. Love was represented in this single insect.

Muse 109: Dying in Water

found via amanda white

At this certain point she wasn't sure how things worked anymore. Everyone told her what to do and how to go about it. The methods, the timing and instructions that brought her down to the very last detail until she didn't understand where to start and if it would ever end. The big bang or a simple simmer --- she didn't understand why people had so much say; there wasn't much to rediscover when dying was just a result. The question was, she asked loudly, telling the room to quiet down, did it make a difference if you knew there was a rebirth?

Silence dawned, and no one dared to take the risk.

Muse 83: Heels

found via weheartit

This was her secret past time; he was her secret way to past time. He kept the key underneath the carpet, but she never touched it until he went away. Each day she stroked the ridged ends, wondering if she should take the risk, and when she did, the interior shocked her. The beautifully adorned room had the loveliest wallpaper pattern. One could spin and become dazed, lost in the maze as it lead her straight down to the bedroom. Curiousity wrecked her mind as she danced around the edges, afraid to see what was inside. Today was the day, the time, the day to discover what was inside. The dark was encroaching upon her, from behind and in front, and she looked in, gasping. She fled quickly, forgetting to lock the doors, to wipe away her mark, as she ran back into her house. Leaning against the safety of her door, she couldn't help but feel a little jealous of the bonded woman who had no feet to run.

Muse 59: Birds

found via tumblr

It's always when the quiet is the loudest that I get scared the most. The fear approaches me like birds. Birds - I always hear the birds before I see them. Their wings flap like sheets of paper whipping against each other, and the noise grows louder, freakishly louder, until I'm pretty convinced that the birds are here to eat me. They're vultures in my mind. They're chasing me in vicious circles - cycles - until I drop down dead. "I don't want to go," my voice is mildly pathetic and I fold my hands over my face. I'm scared of the birds. I hear them before I can see them. They warn me I'm already dead.

Muse 53: Ill

found via we heart it

"You need a bath," she said, noting the dry scales on his hands. "We can take one after this show finishes. I know how much you like Jeopardy." He gazed at the unblinking screen as if the blue fluorescent glow had mesmerized him, but there was too much sunlight for that to be possible. Nevertheless, she continued to work around him with her scrubs' strings hanging loosely by her side. She took a wet cloth and started working at his feet, wiping at the dust that had collected into a fine layer. Dust does fall and stick over whatever cannot move.

Muse 26: Rexia

found via fuckyeahskinnybitch

She had a theory that if she never ate or ate never enough she would digress in form. Her body would shrink to fit into the boxes that people put her in, and it would contort to shapes unknown to man. In this way, she could be uniquely beautiful and rarely seen, rarely noticed by the curious onlookers, the pretentious bystanders or simply voiceless friends. The stars would continue shine in their permanent positions as the world revolved with trickery. She would become the forgotten idea that everything seen first has already been seen twice.

Maybe if I don't eat, she decided while staring at the blinding fridge, I will disappear.

And she never disappeared, faded, not ever physically with her frail, spider limbs hauntingly placed in the coffin - but I remember that I can hardly remember her after she was determined to starve.

Muse 25: Existence

found via weheartit

In a sea of shapeless, shadeless greenery, the brown box dropped slowly into a hole of oblivious existence. The finality in the wires creaking, the ropes itching and worldly physicality itself threatens to let the coffin drop with a disrespectful thud. But what is inside is not human. He is alien. He is a wax replica of the man I love - a filtered, massacred replacement to comfort my soul, and I must reject it. My attendance is merely symbolic; my mind is distantly near - Do you think that when people die, their corpses shrivel up because something beautiful has been forcibly sucked out of it? It's like the form itself suffers an inexplicable loss, so complicated and violent, like the shape has been raped and must be reassembled by human hands for the sake of soothing the human mind. We make, we exist, and we lose.

Muse 24: Snow Dress

Edward Gorey

She was wearing pure white with a soft golden glow that layered over her gently like untrodden snow. In fact, underneath her dress was a large, unnecessary mess, where globules of blood seemed to flow. But the snow continue to fall, and she was so small, that the world remained a world and ignored her raw.

Muse 15: Beau-ionette

found via freckledcup

"You only collect beautiful things," she noted verbally. The high chair was much higher than anticipated for her tiny body. Although her legs were disproportionately long for her shortened frame, they could not reach half way to the third rung of the stool and so the toes, like small, thick trinket beads rolled in the open air, reaching for some support but got none. She watched as the Man went about the dusty, amber-tinged room looking for small dresses for her to wear.

"Yes. That is what I like."

She turned her fairy head away. Waiting to see his dark eyes fill her gaze, she kept her sight on the Man's giant body, waiting to read his tell tale micro-movements. These invisible words would tell the truth as they had before, when he simultaneously shook his head left to right all while saying yes. She reminded herself over and over to keep deaf to his comforting words as she saw the dry, rotting wood pieces that hung all around the workshop. All the details, the intricate carvings mesmerizingly filled her eyes, grabbing her attention with artistic magnetism. All the beautiful pieces were breathlessly lifeless.

Muse 4: Coffin Ash

"Did you know," he said as they drove past the miles and miles of land scattered with tall trees - although there were more acres of emptiness than tree, "that once upon a time they did not bury people in coffins and gravestones? Yeah, even us, the ones who probably honor this grave tradition more than anyone else. But even in King Arthur's time they did not bury people in their own graves - no, they buried them under trees, and the trees became a symbol of memory, of life. Then I guess somewhere along the way, generations decided that they were too self-important to be put back into the ground, too important to decompose like all things should, and started to clear up the trees for burial ground, started to fill dead bodies with chemicals and unnatural things so they would be physically immortal in death. Then thousands of year later, we sit and wonder why the earth is dying, but we never give thought that maybe she is a giver, not a provider. So where is the provider now, when she has no more to give?"

Muse 1: Broken Keys

(via loveyourchaos)

They droningly plunked with a tune like broken teeth, like broken teeth. I don’t think I ever noticed that they were out of tune, out of tune; I just noticed they were brown and crooked - kind of like yours after you started smoking, cussing. Truthfully, touching this piano may be the closest I will ever get to your drugged, dead lips.