Writings Of The Heart

The young do not know enough to be prudent, and therefore they attempt the impossible - and achieve it, generation after generation.
We Are Young, Attempt the impossible.

His Lonely Heart

He ran. The gesture was all he needed. He didn’t need to hear her voice as she talked about another man. He could guess. He didn’t need to watch the vamp as he bathed in all the glory of the prize which was the red headed angel.

No matter how hard he thought about the betrayal about the pain and the anguish he couldn’t seem to hate the fallen goddess, he only envied her. That she had made it out of this ship wreck in one piece. He doubted there was even a word for what he felt like right now. It was as if someone had taken all the good out of him and set it on fire. As if someone had torn his heart out with a spoon then burnt it and laughed at the ashes. It was a though a greater demon had swallowed him whole only to throw him back up and start stabbing him slowly and painfully with barbed wire.

No this was completely different he thought. He would take any of that any day over this pain. He had never felt such a pain in his life and he hoped never to again.

The one last thing that would forever be imprinted in his mind till the day he died was the look on her face as he ran and her voice saying one word. A word that portrayed so many emotions that he never wanted to figure out. One word sent his whole world crashing.

“Jace,” she had said. Just Jace.

This in an excerpt from my original Fanfiction about Jace Wayland. Please if you love Mortal Instruments please give it a look.


Thanks :)

I wish I could hate you. I want to hate you. It would be so much easier if I did hate you,

—Jace Wayland, Mortal Instruments

A Bubble

Have you ever felt like there’s a bubble? And inside the bubble you can feel and smile and laugh and break and feel every single emotion rush through your body like an infection. The infection start’s in the very far reaches of your toes and travels up murderously towards your heart where it engulfs it in agony and lust just to keep on travelling to your brain and there the forceful infection wreaks havoc on your brain jumbling up all you thoughts and your power to think rationally. Well I have and it’s the most excruciating one of a kind heartbreaking, amazing pain in the world and even though it’s killing you cannot bring the will to wish it away. I did. Now I’m outside the bubble watching in. It’s cold here. I feel nothing. I think nothing and I dream, of nothing.

Love is the infection and without it we would be, nothing.

A Child

A child sits huddled up in a corner all alone. Her head in between her cradled knees and her body shaking violently. The walls around her are dark and cold it reminds me of a prison cell they seem to stare at you homing in on your weaknesses scaring you into the furthest point you can reach until you break down and die inside. This child has been here too long she has seen things she shouldn’t, felt things that aren’t even comprehend to her young mind and she has had to cry over too many people that her heart cannot bear it no more. She lifts her tired and weak head and stares me straight in the eye, just the look of her crushed bright green eye all stricken with tears break me down.

I run to her, I mean to comfort her to hold her close to love her and show her she is not alone but I keep running and running never getting any closer just having to try and try and never getting through. Her eyes film over with another flood of tears and she breaks all over again but this time she seems to think that no one can come that no one can live without the pain so she takes the dagger sat next to her and lifts it up. The sharp dark object looks foreign in her tiny hands but she knows just how to end it, end the pain, end the suffering and rejoin her loved ones again. I scream for her to stop but she just smiles at me and tells me one thing before taking the dagger straight through her heart. That expression she held still haunts me today, a tone so sharp and so dangerous should never be heard from the mouth of a small child. It tore through the fabric of reality and left me crumpled to the ground I couldn’t see anything my vision to obscured by tears. I will never forget that day, ‘Mors inceptio solum est’.

Miracle of an Angel

I see death its coming near,

I’m full of pain regret and fear.

Then my angel comes on golden wings

His voice so pure as he starts to sing.

He is my saviour, my life and my last breath

I take him in hoping to survive my untimely death.

God speed my lovely miracle

My breath is weak and life so pitiful.

I have no hope no desire to be

Until you came along please set me free

Of this torture and pain please help me live

So I can right my wrongs and start to forgive.

My lovely miracle I shall forever be faithful

To my loving angel.

I Miss It

 miss not knowing whether Harry was going to live or die. I miss not knowing the final chapter. I miss midnight releases and parties. I miss not being able to read a Harry Potter book for the very first time. I miss not having a new Harry Potter movie to look forward to during the school year. I miss being able to see the cast grow up before our own eyes. I miss the very beginning. I miss everything in between. I miss July 20th, 2007. I miss July 14th, 2011. I miss my childhood.

(Source: nicolemcreynolds, via second-tardis-to-the-right-deac)

I believe magic is real… Am I crazy? Most defiantly Do I care? Not one freaking bit ;) Do I ever want to change? Why change who I am when I can be who I am… Forever