Disclaimer: don't own Harry Potter; wouldn't dream of it.
plastic
suff.
Forming; growing; changing; developing: metaplastic
Red Herrings
"The world sees us as they want us to be seen, they do not know what we are, they do not see what we do because they can't see beyond the big picture. They think we are what we are, but whoever said we had to be?"
Your emotions seem to cry to me everyday, and every night.
The paint on the walls is drying and time is slowly passing, we wait for it to dry so that everything can be clear again.
Even when you press your hand against my chest, there won't be a heartbeat answering back because this heart had never pumped a beat in it's life. Until now, that is.
When the time comes, you'll have to deny it all. Because even paintings have to disintegrate, just like you and I will. Instead of grieving each dying moment, the sky urges us to celebrate the loss of ever-dying life.
But I cling to your breath. My lips wanting to be part of your exhaling poison. We were meant to be like the stars over head, and the solid stones carrying our feet. We were meant to be apart like the south and north, and like the eternal pull of moon and sun.
We were the opposite of life joined together by the beating of one heart.
They nag you with their insults and I carve a new stonewall for you so that their words cannot hurt you. I'll build you a world where no one can see the difference between hate and love. When that time comes, I promise I'll be there, I promise.
You know the truth. They denied it, but I bashed it over their faces with this one solid piece of evidence. And they knew, how we were to be forever cast apart. Two separate pieces of glass that could never fit next to one another. But we found a way. The glass metled, and we became one hated piece of broken glass; we could never again fit in with the rest. We were. We were.
I would crawl back into my personal hole in the ground, and forget about all we live for. I could cut off all their heads and feed them to god. But no, we are sinners, us both, the evil of this sacred earth. Our tainted souls mingle with all holiness that the goodness established. It was once over you, this goodness, it was once the parasite living in your flesh. But then you realized how much deeper I could get into your skin.
No razors or burns could get me out. Self-mutilation only helped you think this was all fake. But I stayed buried inside your heart and fed off of your emotions like the leech that I am.
And you let me. Quite fondly, let me devour your heated feelings of hatred, sorrow, and lust; you let me. Because you knew what you didn't know.
This mound of spineless tissue which spread cold blood throughout my body, does not beat, it does not sing when warmness creeps in, it does not die when raw teeth pierce it's shallow grave, it does not bleed when you ask it to bleed, because it does not live, this heart of mine.
When you press hard enough, when you kiss slow enough, when you touch softly enough, maybe, it'll be your one fine day.
Until then, smoke your cigarettes and inject your plastic happiness, because god knows, you can't find it anywhere else.
