.love grewand died repeatedly;she tore it out atthe root
.and if you evermanage to get inside myhead, i'll wish you luck
.you were a passingstorm, a tornado scribblingyour name in the sand
.i dug up thepast again, thosememories viciousand snarlingi set them looseinside the houseand now we haveto leave
.some thoughts get so loud thatyou cry out for them to leave;they scatter like birds startledout of their trees, before landingagain where they wereand after a while,you just have tolet them sing
.he stood on the shore,and told the sea he loved her;the jealous wind tore hisvoice in two
.the breathin my lungs -you tookeverything
.does a weedever wonderwhy it isn'ta flowerdoes a treeever feel likeits roots areholding itdown
.your heartalone shouldremind younot to beatyourself upyour pulseshould remindyoukeep steady
.everything i hold deari hold too tightly;i am so sorry you weremarked when i had tolet you go
.some people are deadlong before they die -there's just no burialor cremation,no funeralfor the spirit
.you're afraidto let anyonestoke the firein your chestfor fearyou will burnthem alive
.hell isthe devil's chest,an empty red cavernhe's simply tryingto fill
.you pulledall the strings;now i connect morewith the puppet thani do the puppeteer
.you brokea heart,convincedthat there wassomething goodinside
.pour love allover, then strikea match;the fire willburn itself out,but the ruinswill smoulder
.i wanted to bathein fire; for the amber tonguesto lick me clean, pure
.in the nighttime you arebetter; moonlightembroiders yourskin and stitchesyou up with apurer love, untilthe morning comes,the sun runs histeeth through yourseams again, splitsyou open
Endorsed By The Surgeon General.She was like cigarettes.She took his breathaway,and filled his lungs with promisesthat evaporated likesmoke.
.What do you want to be when you grow up?They ask it like a dare.As if letting your unlikely dreamsslip from the safety of your mindcould bring their owna little closer to reality.
Keep your secrets, wolfgirl.I have been suffocatingon the stars of my pastlike horny gentlemendo with innocent lookingwolfgirls at 3am- their bitefearless as thieves.My lilac lungs are breathing indust and the tears of Saturn’snameless moons,while the rest of me -well, shes warm off wineand poems leftunfinished.
...when death put its handon my shoulder,it shivered;i was alreadycold.
WritingI am a writerI write whatI wish I could sayTrapping my feelingsOn paper everydayI am a writerI write whatI see around meMy eyes; wide openHave set me freeI am a writerI write whatI need to doClear and confusedJust give me a clueI am a writerI write what I feelAnd I feel what I writeBut when I stop feelingI stop writingAnd my little worldStarts reelingI am a writerWho writes to find reasonAnd maybe even some treasonIn this worldWhere insanity rulesBehind a piece of paper marked:"Here are the fools"
you're so blind.here i am drowningand you have no idea what to do,you're so lostand panicking.why don't you take your handsoff my shoulders?
VeinsI wishmy veinsof ocean blueflowed not justto my heart,but toyours too.
Sheets“I adore you,”she said, whimsically twisted in the rippled gossamer sheets of their bed.And in these words were memories of weather-worn love letters,long kisses with smeared roseate lipstick,and layered mascara outlining her chatoyant eyes,for he loved the way it looked.“I misspoke,”she said months later, tightly grasping the rippled gossamer sheets of her bed.And in these words were soiled and crumpled goodbye notes,untarnished roseate lipstick on her opulent lips,and smeared mascara, creating an ashy mess on her pillowcase,for who cares if he used to love the way it looked.She whispered to empty sheets,“I meant abhor you.”
contrast without the compare.when i look in a mirror,i don't see what i ami see everything i'm notand can never be.
.i shudderwhen you speak;your words arecold when theytouch me