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ChelOpera

Published: Jan 6, 2011

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Literature Text

Solemn Serenity.
Simple War.
Violent Dreams.
Sensible Paradox.
Shattered Heart.

All a sick part of reality.

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New Beginnings

It's time to start again. Do not look behind you, for you'll mourn the ancient past. Nostalgia for your history, nightmares from your deeds. No second glances, for the memories will awaken you. Remind you of what happened and whatever lies ahead. The pangs for all behind you must be erased. All that you know is gone. It's time to start again. Thank. God.

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please let me get what i want.

For two hundred and eighty four days, I woke up. I woke up with this bone-deep ache that never went away. I woke up to an incessant question playing in my mind that would never be answered. I woke up alone. For two hundred and eighty four days, I woke up without you when I woke up at all. The thing about time is that it never does make anything better. It just means more space to think. It means sleepless nights trying to figure it all out. When it went wrong. How to make it better. It means slowly losing my mind. But it never once meant getting over you. It's funny how the things you think you've forgotten always come rushing back when you

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How I Live Now

Bald plastic limbs were guided through the forest green of your dress. Each button-snap, a reassurance, angles were everything, the mannequin-like collarbone was symmetry to skin, breast and waist, body now thinned, weighs heavy. The first incision is blood-less, literally splits you apart as they peel open the cold husk of you. First years orchestrate body biology, muscle braids, explore left and right ventricles and the quiet atriums of your heart. I say, 'I'm so sorry, just completely sorry.' Loosening the chest muscles, cutting the elastic lines running towards the sternum. Your spinal cord resembles the start and end poi

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Regret?

Everyone writes about broken dreams, whether love is worth the pain, the crushed dreams of yesterday and chipped hearts incomplete. Everyone writes out of insecurities of the beautiful that brings us anguish of a heartful. I believe that the more negative things we spread in this world, the darker this world will become. And if only we could learn to share in action and words of the things we should live for, then this world may just have become just a little bit better than before. We should never forfeit the good things in life because of the bad,and make our decisions in life based soly upon them. The most valuable things in life are defi

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Despoema de amor

Deveria lhe compor versos perfeitos Que homenageariam todo seu ser Te diria que o meu sonho é te ter Mas fico com preguiça e não faço tais feitos Diria que desbravaria todo o mundo Somente pra defender seu nome Só que eu esqueci dele, to usando um pronome, Então é melhor guardar isso num buraco fundo Doaria pra te uma parte de mim Se necessário até meu coração Mas na hora do transplante eu daria uma de fujão É melhor a essa estrofe eu dar um fim Falarei então que até Lua eu te daria Mas agora de me lembro de um problema: Não consigo nem sequer puxar

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Desire

Your smooth skin, It drives me crazy I want to touch you, And just maybe, You...will let me... The look in your eyes, It really drives me wild I shouldn't be surprised, That you're so tempting... You are all I can see... Desire... Taking over me Desire... Controlling me I can see... The light in your eyes, Every time you see me... The beads of perspiration, Are rolling down your face As you look away, I lean in for a little taste, Because you let me... I can see your curves, Move underneath your shirt And I can't place a price, On what this moment's worth... So revealing... Desire... Taking over me Desire... Always controlling me I can s

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Our Last Kiss

If I had known that it was our last kiss, I would have inhaled you deeper within me. If I had known that it was our last kiss, I would have seared your taste onto my tongue. If I had known it was our last kiss, I would have scorched your scent into my skin. ... If I had known, I would have frozen time ...

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Closer

too close to see, you are too close to me, an eclipsing gaze, all arms across us, i wouldn't leave, if i could go but you know this - you knew of love once you want to know again, you try to kiss me, as if drawing love out, and breathing love in, die again and again, you'd rather, than death you've almost known, too close for comfort

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Not For Me, For You

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She Dances With Fire

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Schizophrenia

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Schizophrenia

Holding on to a thought has always been... difficult for me. They're so rarely interesting enough to hold my attention for more than a few seconds. Quite often, I'll tune out what someone is saying because something they said sparks a thought which leads to another thought which leads to another thought... No, I don't get distracted by shiny objects. I'm a human, not a magpie. I never really cared that I wasn't listening to what people were saying. My thoughts, as cascading as they are, were always more interesting than they were. Eventually, I did away with people entirely, living in my own stream of consciousness. Even now, it is difficul

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No idea what to say about this.

What does everyone think?
How should I expand on this?
Does this make sense to other people besides me?
Any suggestions of other forms of writing I should try?

Thanks!

Comments7

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madarasshadowrose

Jan 11, 2011

This is great <3

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