The petrichor dampened the brittle air,

While the viridescent grass clung onto dew

And burly, mahogany trees perched towering and gangly.

Above, large celestial bodies danced in syzygy

As below earthworms crawled in unison to the sound of neglected rain drops.

Faceless, silver, low hanging clouds somberly trudged across gray skies

As a sensation of restlessness circulated around

And all man made sound drowned in the pandemonium of nature.

As tadpoles swam in miry water

And snails traipsed over damp sidewalks,

The world reposed in peace.

[Boy's POV]

I am never one to express mighty emotions.

Such emotions, that can bound out of control in seconds,

Have been banned from my living corpse.

I have never felt love,

I have never thought upon any sadness,

And anger rarely dwells in my heart.

They call me cold- hearted,

Unfeeling,

A stone.

Only she ever called me by my name.

She told me she loved me a month after we had met.

With big, brown eyes that seemed to shine brighter than the moon itself,

She had told me she loved me.

When I had responded, running shaking fingers through my hair,

The brightness in her eyes did not dwindle.

Instead she nodded,

Told me I was the most loving boy she knew,

And left.

I have never felt love.

That night I laid in bed,

My dreams purged of her,

My bed purged of sweat,

And my body purged of body odor.

I have never felt love.

The next time we met she held my hand.

It was warm and full of life.

She took me to a park where we sat on swings, interlocked,

And there we talked,

But my eyes were on her.

The sun created a halo of her blonde hair,

A pool of gold of her skin,

And a vat of melted caramel of her eyes.

When the night ended, and her hand left mine,

It felt stupid light,

Cold,

And empty.

I have never felt love.

things so pure

have become tainted.

painted black

with a broken brush.

my thoughts have shifted.

my mind wandering

down the chipped road

i fought so hard to leave.

faces have blurred

along with places.

images distorted,

shriveled and twisted,

like my heart.

who i can no longer trust.

who leaps into voids

it finds... enticing.

so, i tether it to my mind,

another untrustworthy subject,

and hope that some logic

will silence my innocence,

and i will mature

like i always do,

and everything will be alright,

and i will be pure once more.

There are two types of love. The quiet kind and the loud, blaring kind. The quiet kind sneaks up on you. It’s soft kisses on the hand, small nervous smiles, and the rosy tint of cheeks. It’s the shy patter of one's heart, creating a slow, soothing rhythm in thou’s body. It’s the love of butterflies wings. Small flappings unheard of by anyone, but the butterfly and those who listen close enough. It brings a small ember in the stomach that shakes the bones and tickles the skin. The lovers may deny this silent affection, yet it paradoxically rages in their hearts. And then, there is the loud, blaring kind. It pounces on one; a tiger to its prey, yet the tiger lands softly, and by no means wants harm it. It’s fierce kisses and tight hugs. It’s red kiss stains on the earlobes, and swollen lips. It’s a soft fire that scorches the body and leaves the skin with a golden glow, seen by the heavens. These kinds coexist, in battle oftentimes, yet when one, are equivalent to the infinite beauty of the world.

-when he says he’ll give you the world

We chop and slice

Our pain away,

Hoping when we wake up

People’ll know just what to say.

But the ignorant are the predators

And the sad ones are the prey.

We weep and weep

And yell our fears

But ears are closed

And the eyes are blind to our tears.

So how are we to gain peace

“Does such happiness exist?”

“Are we even worthy?”

We ask as blood drips from our wrists.