Colours

There are colours, and then there are colours. There is this widely mistaken belief that colours are impartial to the unblinded.

Oh, how dark their lives must be. 

This book is a spectrum, a rainbow, a plethora of coloured emotions. 

I’ve splashed my paints all over my poetry. 

Of course, this is just poetry, but I think we all know nothing is ever just poetry. 

These are tinted memories. 
I hope my words encourage you to feel all the colours in your life.

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IF ANYONE HERE IS ON WATTPAD

Add me. I’m @theperfectphoenix . 

The Voice. 

 there is a quiver, a voice, a scratch on the back of my throat at all times

 that spins magical magnificent memories in the form of words i cannot live without. 

i call these wonderfully wierd impulses as my poetry. 

but be warned : we poets learn how to twist metaphors and pin imagery.

we make make diamond words out of coal memories.

we know how to bend and shake up words until they shiver and are nothing but dust. 

we paint gods out of human palettes.

and i will probably make one out of you too. 

So it’s been four months…

*digs into the earth and hides from you all* 

Hey? *insert Flynn Rider’s smoulder here* 

Okay, okay. So I’ve been busy. So I’ve been engulfed by eleventh grade. So I’ve nearly lost all motivation to write. But fear not. 

I’m still here. Hi. I’d thought this blog had been pushed inside the debris of forgetfulness, but some of you were still visiting! Woah. I’m still getting the view I do not deserve. 
How’ve you all been? Come back, come back. 

Drop a line!

Phoenix

// fantasies of love //

you know those moments? the fraction of a second when your teacher slips in a word of praise that goes absolutely unnoticed by everyone but sends soft firecrackers off in your chest, a compliment in the middle of a totally different conversation, that one second when you ignore the little look of worry in your friend’s eyes when you stand too close to the road, the little moments of euphoria, the tiny soothing happiness ticking your chest and giving you goosebumps, you know that feeling?

now imagine feeling that ALL the time.

letting go

coul d nt be mor e per r f f f ec t tha n k yo u

Leonard Durso

you can’t keep
what doesn’t belong
to you
just let it
go

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// Love //

You can say think world is dark,
And it made your soul so too,
But the ocean’s unfettering colour
Can’t really make you blue;

You can say people are really mean,
That they don’t care about how you are,
But have you really forgotten the smiles
From those who live a bit too far?

Maybe you just need to close your eyes,
And take a long deep breath,
Consider how you’re gonna spend,
The little of the strength you have left;

Since you got a bit of love with you,
Why not spread it out?
Maybe it will reach to someone
Lost in the loveless crowd.

-Phoenix

You’re just a teenager, what do you know?

this is us. the kids with the pixel hearts, the queens with the broken hearts. this is us, bleeding love and glory. we survived. this is us with the gazillion views on oppression and prognostications. this is us – the ones with the bruised knees and patched minds, building sandcastles with the muck you threw at us. this is us with the scraped knees – do you remember pushing us down?

this is us –  grime filled nails and latte lips and rusty hair. this is us, and we made it this far. this is us. we wear headbands of wilted flowers and we scream with our face full of blood. we know how to make poison with apple seeds. we hope with bandaged skin and tousled hair. we sing with our mouths closed – do you remember taping our mouth?

so this is us – reincarnations of helen and cleopatra and venus. this is us with labels stuck to us with permanent glue. this is us – dying to please a generation you raised.

Emotional Stability

Frozen Galaxies

and i cannot just understand how i can possibly feel like an entire library and a blank page at the same time

but i kinda do, and i still don’t know how i feel about it.

        -Phoenix

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too soon. moving on too soon.

Frozen Galaxies

“because it’s like seeing a white daisy spring up beside a freshly dug empty grave, don’t you see?” she mumbled, shaking furiously into her palms.

  – exerpts #1

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