#needsediting

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero Mini Poster [Vers.2] ⋆｡˚⭒⋆

[ Retouched photos + scans below the cut ]

Soured fruits

Sharp and sweet

Summer delights

Fallen from trees

Bruised nights

Squashed and squeezed

Seeded and pressed

Flecks of flesh

Chilled and depressed

The pale yellow water

Torn and cut

Lace me with your sugary syrup

Pain is served to those Who try to avoid the waves

Mountains turned to gravel Unable to bend around the sea

Ash and smoke Are all that remain

Perhaps the phoenix Was just another bird Never to rise again After it was its time to fall

If I think I will live forever,

I will start to live life better,

If I believe I’ll die tomorrow,

I’ll live not for the morrow,

And leave behind bitter sorrows,

If I believe in true love,

My heart would never stutter,

Or hold thoughts of another,

If I can’t find hope,

All I will perceive,

Is the ability to deceive,

If I lose my ability to feel,

I will never truly heal,

If a line was to be drawn,

Between the wrong and the right,

Hate will grow out of spite,

Leaving behind one’s ability to have insights,

Lines that divide,

Often cause the sides to collide,

Leaving both with only their coping religion,

divisions lead to collisions,

The right misuse their ability to accuse,

The wrong gets use to all the abuse,

In the end we find,

Both sides become blended,

And only the wise know not to pretend,

By, cw

Didn’t your mother ever tell you?

Ought it be heard, ought it be.

Themes of you, themes of a wholesome two,

She knew as many women did, the lullaby left a distinct taste,

Hope was to shimmer the young spirit and awaken it to find,

The tasteful tale mocked every woman alive

Woman webbed in disguise, yet smile so bright as if they were full of light,

She engraved he would come forth and slay,

Saving you from a doom you couldn’t find, in time holes would grow vaster as your heart became lax to your body,

Day after Day you would lay and wait for the man you needed to be saved,

You bleed bleed bleed but the idea is where the blood runs,

Incoming a drive to approach sharper waves,

Cause if it was not now, it would be than, and there you were looking again,

No longer could bare the dust dry air, or fathom in taking a breath of what was left,

Could not find a lie to collide the false fiction that whisper every night that you were deprived without a knight,

But it whispers, whisper, and it whispered all around everywhere,

Looking around the city you find girls beautiful, pretty, with a man witty and tall,

It whispers, whisper , whisper

Whisper, it did, it all, and the whispers starting to scream and no longer was there reason of conscious hearing,

Around the bend your eyes widened, turn the corner of main street, alleys in the dark isolation became safe because no one could talk,

Ears, eyes, nose, and numb your touch, but danger embarks lingers in the dark,

No longer fearing the whisper, passing the dumpster a homeless man raping your sister,

Never fishing before, Discomfort scrapped in deep to fill eyes,

Taste, taste, and taste this tale would leave you bitter,

Not one of glory, and certainly not a lullaby,

So tell your daughters, and remind your son’s,

Were all damned, don’t look at it firsthand,

Spiral into a faith of the darkest intakes, and look alongside,

All the beautiful girls and boys just born fucking right,

A kiss of the lips might make a quick fix,

But lips burn like fire when a liar conspires you to take a dive,

Watch the cement as he implants a seed of destruction,

Cause every little princess was told,

They were sold,

A Story of a man, who came along to make everything worthwhile,

Little angels all over would linger for clovers,

Words could cut deep and cold and make you numb,

Eyes that are lurking for validation make an easier completion for those introducing temptation,

Earth’s core made of iron,

Our blood possess iron too,

All living pieces of the land,

Land that could thrive as long as it rains every once in awhile,

Mothers, Mothers, Sisters, Brothers, Fathers, and Mothers,

Filling the cough syrup in the metal spoon,

Forcing us to swallow it whole,

But the taste shivers slowly dripping to the soul.

The earth keeps spinning

And life is spinning along with it.

Yet, he was stuck in place.

Chains…

Not on his body

But his mind.

The metal though cold

Emitted a warm, relaxing colour;

Silver.

Like her favourite dress.

He was chained by her person.

An image that never fit reality.

An extract of his dreams.

You give a blind man colour

And he names you god.

But when your god leaves you

To return to the skies

You are left with lullabies.

However, the childish songs

Were missing the colour he sought.

So, chains he put on, himself.

Tied them on “their” bed.

On her portrait.

And shackled, he felt loved.

Not disturbed, nor restricted.

All he needed to live was her…

What is love, but a mean for manipulation.

That, he knew.

Yet, he would make the same mistake again.