First of all, I am very thankful for all of the votes and read and comments: seriously you guys are the best. Second, I know I haven't been very present, but I have not abandoned this- I just put my studies ahead of my hobbies and passions which is why the chapters are coming so slow. The next chapter is already in the works and I hope it will be done soon.
In the meantime, I wanted to ask you- to check out my poetry book. (this is exactly what you think this is: "shameless self-promotion"). Poetry is very important to me and I will post a poem I recently wrote in this chapter so please tell me what you think: if you want to of course.
Here we go:
When Pigs Fly
How does one learn to believe in love?
what is it?
Are we born with a love just waiting to find us?
(it's pink plump hands itchy with giddiness and excitement- reaching out towards you)
or maybe it's already there,
(ready to smother us in its golden glow and wrap us in security)
I don't believe that...
There is no great plan to this world
(somebody behind the velvet curtain pulling on strings and making us dance- pirouettes and pas de deux)
We are all just lines
Running along a blank piece of paper-
so busy hoping for something more we forget that all we are- are lines on a blank piece of paper
We intersect and interact.
(running next to each other neck in neck)
(pushing each out of the way)
it's all just chaos.
Some people think that love happens in an instant.
like two strangers enter a room and suddenly the airlocks into place-
like glancing at someone with the intensity of all the butterflies trapped in your stomach-
like a touch that sends electric currents running through your unstable body- shocking your fuzzy mind into submission,
like talking to "home" in poetry
or singing a ballad to "belonging"
I don't think so...
I don't believe we are meant to find a love,
our love.
any love.
it isn't hiding from us; it's was never there to begin with
There are no two halves of a single greater whole,
no two people that fit and fold into one another like jigsaw puzzles:
or combine in a mixture of
bird and sky,
earth and tree,
"Love" molds and grows constantly:
evolving, rearranging its bones.
crushing you, building you up.
"Love" has no form or any real meaning grounded in reality,
it's an idea
a "no truth"
a "bluff" that we nonetheless chase so needily:
(desperation painting our sweaty, sunburned faces)
(loneliness sticking to our shaky, wrinkled hands)
Roughed up and loveless from wandering alone we try to reason with it-
"what must I do? how must I change?"
But when the silence gets to be too much and as our legs fold in beneath us we plead-
"please end this suffocation!"
so close.
But we can never reach it
You- stranded traveler, the love a mirage
(driven by days of stumbling around, tripping over all your misplaced hopes and empty promises)
Chase it, but you won't ever get close enough to dip your hands into its clear chilled water-
or braid its silky hair,
or hear it lull you into sleep at night.
But then again, maybe I'm wrong,
(too shallow in my perception to think anything new- or understand more than any other person)
How can one discuss love when they know nothing of it?
I like my coffee with sugar and milk,
my mother thinks it's a disgrace.
I think I'll find the love that doesn't exist- when pigs fly.
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Alois: So she posts this instead of updating the story about us!? The nerve!
Claude: ...
Alois: Ciel aren't you angry about this!?
Ciel: *reading a book* She can do whatever she wants.
Alois: NOT WHEN I HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT! I AM IMPORTANT! ISNT IT TRUE CLAUDE!?
Claude: ... yes, your highness...
Ciel: Oh shut up you!
Alois: You want to fight you twat!?
William: I think it's best you both ' shut up'.
Grell: SEBASTIAN DON'T RESIST OUR LOVE- I AM GONNA BEAR YOUR BABIES!
Sebastian: *too busy escaping to say anything*
Undertaker: I guess Y/N will just have to wait for a little to see what happens, hehe!
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*wink* *wink*
YOU ARE READING
Just A Box (cat! black butler x modern! reader)
Fanfiction(Y/n) (L/n). You are just a regular high schooler, well you were before you found seven fluffy cats in a box. Suddenly, you weren't alone anymore. Let's be clear, your parents were great people, but they were often busy, and were on business trips m...
