Muse 87: Paper Town

found via melanielockwood

It's so hard to find you. They told me it's all worth it in the end, that when I see you at the end of the day, it's like finding you at the end of the aisle. That's what all my friends, who have someone to hold hands with, tell me. They comfort me, sincerely comfort me, under the impression that things will work out in the end. 

I was walking in our town's history museum today, and I saw an old paper map that was drawn sometime during the 1870s. While I  was reading the description, I discovered that the small coffee stain, normally used to mark secrets and codes, was actually a point to mark a paper town. Paper towns were places fictionally created to make sure no one plagiarized maps. I guess I realized then that love stories were like maps. Point A to Point B all lead me to you, and everyone gives me advice on how to get there, but you're my paper town just like I am yours and no one will ever get the route right except us.

Muse 19: On Her Body

sources unknown

There is a secret on her body. A little hidden chamber resting between the deep navy shadows where the corners and crevices of her body contorts and curves into beautiful shapes. That little chamber is filled with a magical power. Unlock it and it's yours, only yours. Like the right hand corner kiss of a maiden's lips, she has taken the that secret, cupped it in her pastel milk hands and tucked it away like the hands stretching underneath a soft mattress, where the coolness has never left. Men die for it, kings conquer vast lands for it, fairy tales are achieved because of it. There is a secret on her body, it opens every time she is touched by you.

Muse 10: Teacup

image via pavlunka

The table was so radiantly beautiful. Everything was placed invitingly in a way only such boastful colors could offer. It was not green or purple - no, the colors were much more named, such as lime or magenta. These colors with magnificent character cried out not to be ignored. As if the party was crying out to her, "Come to me, come to me. Come rest your body near me and take whatever you wish!" In the midst of a well groomed garden grove, the littered delights on the table called to her like wind chimes responding to a breath of crisp, fresh air that swept through the scenery. As her tiny feet pedaled down the hill, tumbled daintily with the grace of a quick ballerina, she found herself tumbling down the hill where Jack had been waiting all his life.

Muse 2: We wish Books were real

He sat on the floor, two feet away from the long bare legs that reached a point where flesh twisted into the curves and shapes of a callow female. "Look, look," he cried as something winked between the ink and the crinkles of the old fantasy story. He reached out and placed his warm little hand on her knee - pushing back and forth the way a mother would rock a baby to sleep, but the sitter was no baby, and she was more consumed with reality embedded in binary stages between the mental and metal. "Look, look - looook," he said once more as the story came to life and hopped, hopped, bounced across the page as if the individual letters were not words but of the greener pastures. As he kept shaking the sitter's leg, he reached out with his other hand to touch the fumbling rabbit. "Look, look, look...." his voice faded in the distance, and when the girl looked up, the warm hand was gone, and the boy of three was mentioned in the fairy tales. In a paragraph of its own, the words "Look, look, look!" became immortally known.

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.