Muse 98: First Chairs

found via brunopostigo

She was a violinist and he played the cello. By the order of the orchestra, musical hierarchy and general  consensus, he sat behind her where his sound could support hers. She was first chair of the violins and he was the first chair of the cellos. They were musically a match made in heaven and he wondered if she noticed that too, but all he saw was the back of her head. Her black hair ran straight down like a waterfall, and his eyes dropped whenever her movements hinted at turning around. When he played, he didn't read the sheets because the notes hung delicately in the air. He knew the rhythm by watching her dance, and the song by hearing her hum. Her voice was like gold, and his voice went by unnoticed, just as it always had with the audience. While she played the alone, he played in the background, and when she packed up her violin to go, he watched, hiding low in the shadows, too afraid to ask for a solo.

Muse 81: Angels

found via mrgolightly

We thought the angels would save us. Could save us. We misinterpreted their wings for mechanics of flight, when the truth has always been heaven is earth. They were swooping up to bring us to hell. We always believed that we could go higher, build of tower of Babel and find God sitting in the heavens, but we forgot that the tower was never completed, and God doesn't walk among men. We forget that the angels wield swords and protect Eden from wanderers. We forget many things as the world grows silent, and we rule with our desires prioritized first. We live among men, pretending to be gods, and we forget that after our lives, our children's will follow. We keeping moving, keep climbing up stairs that rotate downwards, and think that when we fall, angels will come save us. 

At most, they weep.

Muse 80: The Ring

found via lauryn holmquist

He asked for sex after he finally put his Blackberry away. Recently the days feel longer while our relationship feels shorter, but somehow there's always time for sex. When our bare skin is touching, the moment is silent, and it seems like this deep rooted intimacy is the only time we can come together without any distractions. For once he chooses to ignore the vibrations from his phone and the way it rings incessantly. It bothers me though. I can't think about him with the constant buzzing. Even when I wrap my legs around him, I can't stop wondering who is calling. How important is the call? He moves faster, and I wonder if it's because of his urgency to climax or answer the phone. 

Muse 77: Air City

found via weheartit

It was only mid-October. The skies were clear, no hint of dusty grey or murky yellow, and not a single cloud in sight. We stared at the sky while we rested on our backs, loving the way the sun didn't blind our eyes. You were beside me, so close and barely touching, and my neck craned to be close to your shoulder. I swear my neck was cramping up from wanting to rest against you. I wonder what you'll say if I decide to close my eyes and keep you close. You're always near, but never close enough, but then again, you're just enough. I don't need a sunrise or a sunset when I'm with you; just a sky and our hands barely as we point simultaneously at whatever passes. We're barely touching, the intensity caught in my chest - we're barely touching - and there's enough air between our hands to make build a city. 

Muse 76: Dusk/Dawn

found via baanbrekend

At that moment, all you could hear were the crickets. I felt the wetness of the cold stone wall start to seep slowly through my pants. The chirping was an orchestra of ticking clocks, as it died down, the sun began to rise. In the distance, the sky was slowly turning into a watercolor wash of orange, purple and blue. I forgot if the sun rose from the east or west, but I marveled at how the light is in the skies. The light always wins, and darkness loses like a wimp, letting go of its reign so freely. Then again, winning isn't forever and during the deep PM, the skies turn black. Sometimes though, I forget which time belongs to which and when I look up, I realize that it's dusk and the sun is setting. The light was dimming.

Muse 74: Got Milk?

found via jawshbates

Milk isn't necessary, you know. It's liquid cream that contributes to nothing but fat and bones. I don't know why my parents made me drink it when I was young; they had me drinking organic whole milk so fatten me up like a cow, but as I grew older milk felt thick and filmy in my throat. So I switched to two percent and noticed that it ran much more smoothly, it was easier and less complicated. When I got to middle school, I noticed that the girls around me were drinking 1%. At first I hated it, it tasted like water and I thought I might as well buy 2% and mix it myself, but I grew used to the change in high school and stuck to it. The thought of going back to 2%, or dare me - whole milk - was too much for my throat to handle, so I stayed with 1% until someone introduced skim milk. This was the type that wouldn't put weight on me at all, and I loved it because everything was easier. Then college came and I realized that I didn't need milk at all - they offered soy in the dining halls. Within a month, I kissed goodbye to skim... 1%... 2% ... my virginity, and the thought of ever being whole again.

Muse 72: Path

credit joann lee

He entered gently, breaking the shadows into planes. There wasn't much in the room to begin with. A dying chair, a broken piano and the tiles on the floor which were from the 1980s. The landlord seemed to be proud of that fact, vintage, couture artifacts, he had declared, as if those words could make this dingy place any better. Living here was the equivalent of living in a storage room, all he had to do was sit and become one with the furniture. But this was all he could afford. This was all he understood when he remembered that just across the block lived the girl of his dreams. Seeing her was like opening a door into a dark room with nothing but a piano and a broken chair. Then again, to him, the light was a pathway and the shadows stayed out. 

Muse 71: On the Line

found via ahmebertiee

"You'll get electrocuted," he cried out as Amelie climbed the ropes. Her limbs, trained by the awkward career of pole dancing, were nimble as she maneuvered smoothly with no regard to the danger. As she shook the ropes, the birds flew away. They flew straight towards the sky as Amelie twisted her body among the wires. Somehow she fit right on top, the wires supported her weight, and she sat like a queen over a nest. His worries faded as he stood below her in awe. She could fall so easily but she never did.

Muse 69: In the Dark

found via Cuauhtémoc Suarez

He could barely make out the edges that framed her silhouette. If it weren't for the glowing light behind her, illuminating the shape of her, he wouldn't have seen her at all. As he approached her carefully, the steps of a hunter searching for his prey, he watched the smile grow on her face. She had been waiting, god knows how long, waiting specifically for him. And suddenly it didn't matter to her, or him, how long they had been waiting, or of the arguments that were weaved into all the shadows. All that mattered was the light behind her, and the light separated her from the dark. He loved how she softly began visible to his sight with each closing step. 

Muse 63: Retreat

found via wetbehindtheears

He stated those words gently as if he were breaking news about her husband's death. Even though she knew he was speaking the truth, she had to check her finger to make sure no ring was visible. She rubbed the spot as if there should've been a ring because he spoke as if there was a husband standing in between them. The fact was that there was no husband, and he was trying to talk as if he was offering, but his crass tone made her feel defensive, hunched back, and once more she retreated to a place where he couldn't reach her. 

Muse 61: Sand Castles

found via weheartit

We used to make castles out of sand. It was harder than it looked, harder than I imagined, but the attempts were always worth it when we took a group photo at the end. Those are one of the few photographs I physically own. I always liked the way film looks, the grainy feel. When we stopped going to the beach, I stopped making castles. Our photos are just stored on the computer. Sometimes I forget they are even there and I don't look back because it's not the same. I can't touch these pictures, but I guess all the same, the grainless photographs will still fall apart with the waves of time. 

Muse 60: Cheshire

alice in wonderland (2010)

"Why do you love the Cheshire Cat?" he asked curiously, twisting a strand of my hair in his finger. "Why do you love something so undependable and plain creepy?" I suppose I could explain to him how typical it was to love the White Rabbit, to love the Red Queen and her iconic statements, but it would blow my cover as the independent, fearless girl. How could I tell him that the Cheshire Cat reminded me of the way I wanted to kiss? Not some innocent peck or passionate pursuit, but a sun ray of smiles that will have me falling into his kiss. I'll disappear after that if I have to. A kiss should be that powerful. 

Muse 58: Easy

found via sea of love

It was hardest in the beginning. The pain and longing hurt her chest much more than she imagined. For a girl that was accustomed to being alone for her entire life, for a girl who declared for an independence separate from men, a strength to prove that she could move mountains, this was a sign of pure weakness. It was especially worse the first time, like a druggie just getting used to living without drugs, she couldn't imagine her days without him. But then it got easier. She began to notice that his presence faded as the days passed, and she missed him less and less. It was easy. Like death.

Muse 56: Wings

found via Hudsalva

As the sun slipped through the curtains, I raised my arms above my head. The strain on my muscles felt like a gentle pull, stretching out my arms into a giant pair of wings. Granted, it doesn't take much to fly when you have all the right feathers growing straight from the pores. I like to think of my fingers reaching for the sky as the outstretched wingspan that will bring me to the clouds. I don't know, I think I just like stretching in the morning.

Muse 55: Zoo

found via m-meow

I felt like an accessory to a collection; not so much a mark on the bedpost or a tally in a long succession of winnings, but something beautiful that would enhance the physical appeal. Moving in the world has never been any different from attending a zoo, a park full of wild animals that don't belong there. This world is a gilded cage. Your world is no different from the rest. The safe gates ease souls into believing that the easy life is behind doors. Silver spoons, forks and knives feed your trapped lips and you have no worry.

Muse 48: Hypocrite

unknown

You are so small, he said. Where will you go and how will you get there with those feet? Someone can come and take you away, carry your small frame like the wind carries the leaves. All she could do was smile in reply, in agreement, as he rambled on about her size and frail form that would snap under any pressure. They walked, and he said, You need to be careful, you're so tiny that anyone could hurt you. He said this adamantly, and she merely smiled knowingly. They came to a fork in the road where he gave her a hug, Well here is where I say goodbye, and they parted, and she returned alone.

Muse 41: Thirsty

found via jessieroth

They slid down her fingers and into the deep cup that her palms formed, slipping through to where she couldn't catch them again without spilling everything else. In her perfect red dress, she looked up innocently and lifted her hands to my lips. I drank from her hands until there was nothing left for her to give.

Muse 39: TinMan

found via vogue

"Why do you think love is so dumb when - " he stuttered significantly as her pace quickened and his small steps failed to catch up. He gripped her hand tightly, only successfully pulling her back by kindness of her part. His nimble body worked its balance along the sun soaked wall, made of pale bricks, that spurred endlessly beyond the horizon. She smiled at his clumsy movements, the sway of his body like a rocking chair on the edge of overuse, as she slowed down, adjusting the pace to match his. "- even the Tin Man in that wizard story wanted a heart?"

She shrugged. They were drawing closer to the school. He would let go of her hand and turn around to face her with arms wide open. Then she would take him under the arm, and for a few seconds he would fly the air like a jet plane before his feet crashed against the ground. He would collide into her, burying his face into her stomach as his feet stumbled over themselves. As usual, she would kiss her forehead and promise to pick him up later that day. "Maybe you're right," she said, slowing down even more as they reached a green door with a bright gold knocker. "A heart is precious, so don't lose yours."

"You can have my heart," he offered, wide-eyed.

Laughing, she patted his head. "It's alright, Jack. Now go inside. I'll see you tomorrow." She leaned down and kiss his forehead before pulling back to see his beaming face. He waddled in with a strange maturity of a young soldier who only had grandeur ideas of a battlefield. He was still too young to be known of love's own mine field. I've seen what hearts do, they stay whole or they break. And I've seen what love does, move swiftly without ever waiting. No, I think I'll stay a Tin Man.

Muse 38: Lucky

found via ATLITW

I feel like a good luck charm. Not the kind of charm that wards off evil, but the kind that brings good luck, you know? The kind of charm that is stuck to the top of the ceiling by a thin thread, waiting to be cut off from safety and fall into the hands of an expectant receiver. Whenever the wind blows, I hold my breath in anticipation, wondering where I will be next, wondering how far and how long I have to wait until I'm hovering over the right hands.

I'm also the kind of charm that weighs less than a thought, but is worth the remembrance because it can give a thousand smiles. They say that whoever is with me will be happy, that I bring happiness wherever I go. They say I just have to wait for the right person to come along. Well, my heart is a good luck charm, you know?

Muse 37: Where It Is Safe

found via dearskye

I used to believe that standing in the center of the road, where the doubled yellow lines mingled, was a safety zone. That thin space, where nothing more than a thin shell of a human could stand, had invisible walls that protected travelers from everything that hurt.

During those cold nights, when they sat in a festering silence that normally grew into a wounded battlefield, I snuck out of my room into the welcoming, scathingly cold air. Pushing myself until acid burned in my legs, I ignored the pain, and kept going... going, hearing the honking and storming of drivers who feared more for their own life. Still, I kept going, kept going until the cold air ate away my lungs, ate away the potential to live and run again. This might be what it feels like to be eaten when decayed, and the cold ground kisses my body as I rest in-between the lines, listening to the sounds of passing cars that narrowly missed my frame.