This isn't directed at anyone- I was just going for something pretty.
I saw you walk by me on the street.
I thought you were perfect.
I hope you don't mind-
I watched every strand of your hair in the breeze.
I thought your eyes might swallow me when you said, "Hello."
I can't talk like that; all I said was, "What's up?"
Your soprano caressed my brain into a frenzy-
I couldn't take it.
I let the conversation drop
You out of my life.
It was easier that way, easier than trying not to stumble.
Dance, fire petal, dance.
Twist through the breeze of my life- don't worry, I can't touch you.
Good God, but you're beautiful in my eyes.
Fire petals only burn as long as the wind can taste them;
You all fade.
I saw you sitting alone-
I suddenly thought of heaven.
Your hands were the feathers of a dove's wing
As they touched that book I loved.
I- I sat down next to you.
I hope you don't mind-
I watched every movement in your fingers.
I thought I would die when you touched me by accident.
But I couldn't talk.
I said I was sorry,
And I think you inferred correctly why I said it.
I wish I could have touched you instead.
You're not here, but do you remember I tried to speak?
It didn't last.
When a knife as slender and sharp as you
Slides on my skin, I am a touch-me-not.
I wilt.
Dance, silver drop, dance.
Reshape my eyes' burning light- I won't scatter you, I swear!
My soul wants yours- we match up, for now.
Silver drops are only bright while the light can feel them;
You all fade.
Walking through here, I see you
Every one of you is perfect.
I can't touch you, though.
Opportunity knocks louder than a time bomb,
But I'm always late.
Your spirit would brighten Pluto's day, and warm his heart.
I love you all; you play my heartstrings like a lyre.
I wish I could touch you, but if I do, you'll turn into something else.
Potential combusting gyrating detritus.
Molten reflective terrestrial ore.
And if you don't do that
(And you might not),
I'm too invisible to see.
None of you know who I am
Because I can't talk to you
And I don't want you to think I'm showing off
Anywhere else. Even so,
I wish just once, you could come and talk to me
Instead of making me pretend
I talked to you.
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Carpe Diem Ad Muertum
Sieze the day, to the death. There is no potential that shall be passed by, there is no piece of glory to fall by the wayside, there is no soul to left unsaved by the brilliance of language. As writers, we are gods.
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User Comments: [2] [add]
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SiberDrac Community Member 
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User Comments: [2] [add]
Community Member
It was pretty, but at the same time, really, really heart-wrenching to read. I can't give you a clear answer why. I got felt strange mixture of emotions as I went through it--it was almost physically painful. I can't decide if that's something to be attributed to the style of the writing, the diction, the subject matter, or maybe just how it affected me as an individual, but...well...it's hard to describe what this piece of writing is. The concept of ephemeral perfection, or untainted beauty is not a unique one, and the feelings and fear one feels in association with its presence is also not unique to literature. But I just don't remember reading anything that more vividly conveyed it in a long time.
Anyway, incomprehensible reflection on my part aside and objectively speaking, very nice mixture of the complex (or formal) and the simple (or informal) sentence/vocabulary usage. And the figurative language devices were well-placed for the most part--they felt quite natural (I think the only one that caught me off guard was the opportunity and time-bomb line...that was a little rocky). Oh, and the parallel structure was love.
That's all. Sorry I ramble on so... sweatdrop