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Literature Text
Emmett was a dreamer; there was no other way to describe him. With clouds in his ears, and mud between his toes, or seaweed circling his ankles, and fish in his peripheral vision, He wasn't sure what he wanted or where he'd find himself from one minute to the next.
All he knew was it wasn't here.
Emmett was handsome, no.
Emmett was beautiful. && not Hollywood beautiful either.
his smile was crooked and teeth slightly yellowed, and his ocean blue eyes were always squinted slightly, his [far from] flawless skin had a graveyard tan, and it glimmered silver in afternoon light, while his chestnut hair shone golden.
but by far the most beautiful part of Emmett was tucked inside bleached bones and buzzing nerve endings.
(well that's were logic says ones heart should be.)
but he'd sown it onto his favorite faded tee, he liked the way the red bled and crept across the faded blue in tiny rivers between microfibers, and the way the sandpaper winds scraped across.. It hurt, but he liked the way the ache made him feel so real.
Emmett dreamed in blue sheet capes, and torn marshmallow clouds.
he ran across greengreengreen fields, and stared at the sun until he was seeing stars.
he liked the way he could close his eyes and count the constellations (dipper, big and little bear, Orion.) even though the sun was still suspended in the sky.
And when Emmett was six, his mother told him
"You can do whatever you put your mind too"
(she will regret saying this in exactly 18 years, His 24th birthday.)
Because what this bracket of 'everything' doesn't include, is flying.
and Emmett was never told that the human skeletal system doesn't include wings, and that gravity isn't our friend.
when he was 8 and a half, his father sat down and tried to teach his feet to stay on the ground, with heavy lead filled words, and tame (crush) his free spirit with what he called 'truth'.
this was the day that Emmett decided that he wasn't content with the world his father spoke of, and that he'd rather spend his days with [inhale]: sunshine filling his gossamer lungs, warming his whole body and [exhale]: the clouds whirring around his ears whispering secrets of lightening bugs and hurricanes. His father took a deep breath, and sighed loudly as he walked off, shaking his head.
he held hopes that maybe, just maybe he'd change.
When Emmett was 14 a girl told him that his eyes reminded her of a stormy sea, and that if she stared to long at them, then the waves would crash over her and smash her bones like toothpicks.
(this made Emmett violently sick all over the front of her immaculate school blazer. He then asked nonchalantly
"do you prefer those colours?")
Emmett came to school the next day with hazel green eyes, and wondered what she'd say about them
When Emmett was 16, he shaved all his hair off except for a few centimeters, and dyed the fuzz a muted emerald green.
The headmaster yelled at him until his face was a murky blend of blue and pink,
"GET OUT OF MY OFFICE."
Emmett's parents couldn't look him the eye; instead they stared straight through him, and yell at the white washed wall behind him. But the insults just bounced off the cracked plaster, and collided with the back of his head leaving his eyes stinging, and his lips quivering.
Literature
don't you cry tonight
the sky was a golden red that looked like dragon fire, only warmer. the salty water was mixing in his veins and he thought he would be beautiful if only he could swallow enough oxygen to make him light headed; make him fly. there was something missing from his tongue though, and it stung like a bee to think about;
[her]
there was a rumble of thunder and a crack in his chest; sparking electricity to his inner organs that he thought redundant. the wind messed his hair like the devils and birds laid eggs in his collar bone because it was so stonily and heavenly white. he screamed like a choir boy “forgive me father for i have sinned”
Literature
I need you to know
I need you to know that this usually vibrant city has been a deep shade of grey since you left. You thought I wouldn't notice if you slipped the light from my eyes into your suitcase when you took flight, but it's gotten so dark that I can't find my way. I'm tripping over words and knocking into bruised bones in an effort to find a light switch, but I'm starting to realize you are the switch and my eyes will just have to adjust until you're back in my arms and making me shine.
But I need you to know that I'm standing on the edge, and that I could fall from these crumbling walls and into your kiss in a heartbeat, but I've mastered this balanc
Literature
Tonight
Tonight.
When you laid your head against my shoulder
With your hand on my chest
And closed those beautiful blue eyes
Your slender form embraced by my arms
I felt so proud to be able to call you mine.
At rest, and at peace
Your hair.
Like silken thread in the moon's light.
Your skin.
Like pure, soft snow.
The easy rhythm of your breathing.
Like waves lapping gently at the shore.
The beat of your heart.
Close, clear, comforting.
You stir, and nuzzle contentedly into my neck.
I am powerless to do anything but smile.
Suggested Collections
just something random. && in mid completion.
not quite sure where this will go, because SOMEONE *cough*jono*coughcough* ruined my entire idea, by means i dont care to elude on.
take it or leave it, suggestions and comments more than welcome
full title: if you're not lost, well i guess that makes you found
© 2010 - 2024 xXPumpkin-PwincessXx
Comments1
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It sounds pretty good as an idea. Could use some refining but it has the makings of something really good.