Muse 67: Age of Innocence

source unknown

Her bones felt achingly sore. Not that the comparison should make sense when she was merely fourteen years old. Fourteen felt like such an incredible age... of confusion. Her parents were already asking her what she wanted to do with her life, and the teachers, who didn't care, weren't making the decisions any easier. She was only fourteen, and her body shouldn't feel this way. Old and aching, as if she were ninety years old trapped in a youthful body. Every decision she wanted to make was challenged by a lingering fear that anything could change. As she squirmed in bed, wishing her ligaments didn't ache so much, she suddenly felt a wetness between her legs. Were her bones breaking apart? Her fingertips awkwardly touched where it hurt and came back up with blood. 

Muse 27: Interlock

found via liebemarlene

Sometimes, when the park is desolate, we are inseparable. Sometimes, when the park is overflown, we walk apart like secret strangers. But now, all the time, I keep my hands close together, letting them kiss and touch with gently flurries to remind me that you are consciously near.

Once, I have missed you during the in-between days. They are the spaces between my fingers. The spaces between us compliment the way we spread apart only to bring more of us together. In a compacted fist, the net has caught only love, desire and longing.

This distance is bearable - like the way the Atlantic Ocean are the fingers for Europe and America to touch - the only distance is the one that melds our soils together into one wholly pure foundation where the most heavenly garden will grow.

Now the abyss between slumber and silence is the one I recall. In the twilight of my mind, before I drift away to the nights, the world, in its entirety, urges me into a trance where I find you, waiting for me beyond the reality of this world. I see you in my dreams, I will meet you in my sleep, but not until this separation is incomplete will I fully kiss you, once more eternally.