Cherie Mort

Rating: 5
Rating: 5

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The Best Poem Of Cherie Mort

Butterfly Kisses

I flutter my eyelashes softly against his cheek
Laughing, he pulls back and asks, 'What is that? '
'Butterfly kisses, ' I respond, smiling coyly
He laughs again and tilts his head up towards the sunlight,
Drinking in the light and beauty of everything around us
I sigh and rest my head on his chest, my arms entwined around him
I could stay like this forever
Months later, who knew that we'd end up fighting
Breaking glasses, breaking plates, breaking hearts
I know that we will probably move on soon
But we can never really forgive each other like we used to
When we'd sit and drink in the light from a meadow
And kiss each other like butterflies

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Cherie Mort Quotes

08 December 2015

Says one bird to another, 'Was it the crow which made its feathers black by feasting on the bones of others 'til the blood had caked and dried, or the dove who, out of jealousy, dropped the ink into its bath? '

09 December 2015

-Grimhilde All was merry in the warm hall. Braziers burned, students chattered animatedly with their companions, and teachers quietly smiled and wished each other a Merry Christmas. Suddenly, the ancient oaken doors swung open with a loud, tired groan. In gusted the cold winter wind, pinching out every single candle, dousing the warmth and the heat with a chill that sunk into one's bones. Spooked, all the children hushed instantly. All heads turned towards the doorway. The teachers stared stonily ahead, waiting for the unannounced, unexpected visitor to enter. Black heels clacked noisily across the flagstone floor and stopped in the middle of the hall. 'I hope I'm not interrupting anything, ' an icy voice boomed. Some of the children shuddered, and looked away. Others shivered and kept their eyes on the intruder, a tall woman with eyes that looked sometimes like water, sometimes like two grey-green stones, and frosted blonde hair. She unclasped her black fur-trimmed cloak and dropped it to the floor. The cloak melted and seeped into the grooves between the stones, then recongealed as a staff in her hand. She smiled at it, then turned her head to stare directly into the eyes of the headmaster. 'Now then, where is my stepdaughter? ' Her eyes roved over the rest of the people within the hall, who imagined they felt ice in their souls as their eyes met. The headmaster stood up quickly and said in an angry voice, 'You are not welcome here, Grimhilde. Leave now.' The lady Grimhilde smiled wickedly, and replied back, 'Make me.'

11 January 2016

Hello, strange apparition. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?

10 February 2016

''Why do you act old when you are young? '' ''So I can be young when I'm old'

14 August 2016

If my life was an essay, it would be six feet deep

12 April 2017

''We all have our dormant demons. Mine just tend to talk in their sleep.''

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