Cole's Corner

The devil drives a limousine
Long, sharp, and thin
Dripping from the smoking tires
Are Man’s blood and sin

His joints crack and groan
As he unfolds his spiraled wings
Sickly thin
Translucent skin
A hundred souls scream and sing

A set of milky eyes
Lips tight, black, and thin
Insects around his teeth
As he whispered
“Have you ever sinned?”

He grabbed my lifeless hand
Ice shot through my veins
Darkness spread across my mind
Clouds gathered, then the rain

Maggots burst up through the ground
Squealing out my name
Down I began to fall
All was finally lost and vain 

What is the use of an elbow?
Looking funny, feeling rough
And always just right out of touch
With the rest of the body, oh I know
That there is no use of an elbow 

I just love the pretty little lights
Within my head, just out of sight
Flashing, swirling, feels so right
I just love the pretty little lights

Oh how I hate the pretty little lights
Glaring, screaming, taking flight
Piercing my brain with all their might
Oh how I hate the pretty little lights 

   The only way I truly live is through the ink. The hushed scratch of the tip gliding over the crisp paper, an intrepid explorer over a vast sea of parchment. Traveling in swooping swirls, in stretching lines, curving up and over, under and out. Riding the lines, filling out the space until it is filled with ideas, emotions, discoveries. A black blot, like a cavernous whirlpool, turns in the midst of a roiling ocean of scribbles. Drawing me deep, pulling me in through the darkness, falling down the hole, until I emerge, fantastically illuminated. A low buzzing fills the pink matter inside my skull, consuming my every thought until it bursts onto the page in full colorful splendor. The blankness is terrifying, everything must be filled. Everything must be written. Or it will be forever forgotten, lost and tucked away in the dusty corners where no one dares to venture. The pen quivers, ideas hiding just within its thin hollow breadth. Nothing can hold me back. I am invincible. I live, breathe, and die by the ink.

   It’s funny how love works. Love is dangerous. What if it doesn’t work? Ah, but what if it does? When you love someone, they become the sun. They become the stars that pierce the night sky, the cool water that rushes over your skin, the very ground you walk on. They become the most incredible person on earth, except they don’t see themselves like that. And that’s the only thing you want to show her, you want her to love herself the same way you love her. It’s so hard, but nothing worth living for comes easy. A shy glance, a quick touch on the hand, a slow smile. These are the things that seem to make the world spin on its axis, hurtling through space at breathtaking speed. You want to tell them so many things, to grab the floating scraps of paper inside your head and scream at the top of your lungs. Dizzy feelings that make your thoughts twirl like pieces of grass thrown in the wind. Running so fast, legs pumping, lungs gasping for air, but you still want more. A seed planted in the ground that blooms into a beautiful flower. That’s love.

Te amo
Je t’aime
Volim te
Mi aime jou
Ich liebe dich
Aloha wau ia ‘oe
Wo ai ni
Ya tyebya lyublyu
Ngiyakuthanda

   <3