Knife In The Table |
Hi, I'm Kynna, I just do random things on here. I don't really blog consistantly, but when I do I will either write, or reblog pictures, or post my own pictures. If you have any sugestions for me to do feel free to ask. :) |
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Though Vincent and Theo Did Not Listen. . .
Eighteen eighty nine. The blue blood of Paris had changed; the landscape was restless and overflowing....
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Clockwork
I fell in love with you at the wrong time. But that was your fault. You picked apart my heart until the door opened; and when you stepped...
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What Could Have Been
The first writer leaned over her notebook; snapping her wrist as she moved the pencil through the blank spaces. Her long dark...
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Love, Love, Love
Your fingertips…
will never touch my skin.
Your bright blue eyes…
will only meet mine across eddies of people.
All of them in...
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At Seventeen
I don’t know how many writers deliberately set out to use symbols. How many pause to think about curtain color, the weather, the...
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Black and White
You always made things,
in black and white.
Your blood was ink and your skin was paper.
Your eyes were the night and your hair...
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Now Watch Her Bleed
They threw her into the red ocean, waiting for her to unravel like the pale blue ribbon in her hair. She did not. But the water...
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Golden
They sat side by side. She flipped the pages of Jane Eyre, but she couldn’t seem to absorb the words. He licked his lips and glanced at his...
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The Unrequited Love of the Reader and the Writer
You’ll be a red string tied around my finger. A love letter. Over hills and ecstatic fields we’ll...
