vanilla raindrops

email: noreia@planet-save.com.

This is my blogchalk:
United States, California, sometimes Steiermark, Austria, something bored teenagers say when they speak useless words into brick walls of cotton candy, English, German, Noreia,creative writing, fiction, reading, college student, strange, cat power, mogwai, arap strap, dresden dolls, white oleander, the earth, my butt, and other big, round things, welcome to the dollhouse, fuckers.

body jewelry by bodyPUNKS!

body jewelry by bodyPUNKS!

body jewelry by BodyPUNKS!

 

It's raining. Water pouring over sidewalks and yellow leaves, dripping from the plants hanging from the deck. I wish I could sit out in it and write. I wish I could see it from the balcony of that green, three-story house in that small town in Austria. And the world is no longer oppressive and desperate. The rain isn't good because it's fitting to my melancholy mood -- it's good because it's pure, water to nourish and renew. Rain will fall down, replenishing all of our broken dreams . . .

And I'm ready for anything from you. Fly in the rain and burst. So many months of separation, but I couldn't stop hearing your whispers in trees dancing under grey skies, your songs in clear, warm nights and young girls playing guitar. You were the one thing I longed for, while I tried to convince myself that bubbling vanilla soda, sad British rock, holding her hand, lighting candles were enough. But I'm half-alive until you say my name. Heart of stone, crying out to be broken.

Heart of flesh. Heart of spirit.

Posted by: noreia at 12:46 | link | comments (7) |