|Finally finished ^__^|
If you are a writerIf you're a passionate writer,If you are a writer by Recklys
you know how it is,
to be surround by roaring words,
to be trapped in front of a laptop,
to write and write,
without looking up,
how the time rushes,
how it's getting dark and darker,
and then bright again.
How it is,
when nothing else in the world seems so important,
like finding the right words,
to paint a feeling,
to write a picture,
to formulate an expression so loud or so quiet,
that it stands out between the lines,
that it belongs there,
where it wants to stay.
How it is,
to tell about hope,
without sounding like past loves,
to describe a sunset without the colours orange and red,
to let a tear taste more than just salty.
If you're a passionate writer,
you can capture a moment,
which can't come back,
so everyone can see it forever,
even if it never happened.
something you never wantedthis is the line that draws you insomething you never wanted by disproportionalX
and the hook that pierces your heart
and here are the words that flow effortlessly
out of ones fingers or eyes or teeth
expressing every emotion you wanted to feel
or thought you couldn't word out
and here you are chewing your fingernails
wishing you'd never set eyes on me
Wanted:Wanted:Wanted: by bleedingmywords
A boy with dark eyes that have seen too much and a sharp tongue that hasn't said enough. He's got to have scarred fingers and long legs that have felt the embrace of terror, driving them to flee for escape. He needs to keep his heart in a birdcage, and the bottom better be littered with canary feathers or he isn't heartbroken enough.
A girl with wind tangled hair and Crayola paint under her nails. She's got to be afraid of breathing and waking up in the morning, afraid of talking too loud because she might say something wrong. She needs to trace her stomach at night to depict the organs beneath the surface, and the marker better stain or she isn't trying hard enough.
A boy with broken lips and shattered words that have been bitten down so often that they sound all wrong on his tongue. He's got to press his fingers against panes of window glass and exhale slowly so he doesn't suffocate on his own internal plight. He needs an oxygen mask in his closet for panic at