Isolated |
We look to the floor
In search of answers fallen from the sky
Glorious dreams in the clouds
Come crashing down to shatter as piles of glass on the ground
Fragile and transparent,
As soon as we le...
Posted by on Tue, 09 Jun 2009 20:58:00 GMT |
Here's my hand... |
My friends are my friends, but how many of them will see me to my end? I fear my true friends are truly spread too far and number too thin, so allow me to beginto express my displeasure with the measu...
Posted by on Tue, 09 Jun 2009 18:01:00 GMT |
Re: |
I feel refreshed. It seems the only manner to jumpstarting my creativity is taking anything from the atmosphere around me, sharpening it, and jabbing into my ribcage, essentially the snap-back-to-real...
Posted by on Tue, 05 May 2009 17:27:00 GMT |
My Friends are All Playing Guitars |
Sixteen years in this life and I'm sitting at homeSave the screen I'm aloneDoing my business and going about on my ownI've got big aspirationsBut my friends don't have my limitationsIt's like I'm losi...
Posted by on Sun, 03 May 2009 20:59:00 GMT |
Don't Worry |
Time will heal all woundsbut also brings infectionsthough we define it
Posted by on Sun, 15 Feb 2009 10:48:00 GMT |
To Speak As Simply As Possible |
Unconditional faith is foolish, empathy is my curse, and I'll never be able to feel much beyond the pain others carry about them and stack it upon my own. I'm incapable of being crushed under my own s...
Posted by on Mon, 09 Feb 2009 21:32:00 GMT |
I'd Prefer the Sea |
I have fond memories of my earliest experiments in drowning.No land-walking creature can ever replicate the sounds of those below the water. No place on earth offers the eternal serenity of the endles...
Posted by on Tue, 13 Jan 2009 16:15:00 GMT |
I wish to court a Sphinx |
Bring me the maneater, lover of riddlesbring me the devil's charmbring me the one creature who can understand meand cannot slay me.Bring me a Sphinx.I refuse to bow to mortal women,because I can bow n...
Posted by on Fri, 09 Jan 2009 19:37:00 GMT |
These Caring Hands |
The hands I hold in mine are not holding mine. The arms around me are not around me. My keeper is no longer my keeper, my keeper's arms are looking for a weak spot to pierce. That which was in submi...
Posted by on Fri, 09 Jan 2009 19:19:00 GMT |
Misogyny; It’s Hard Out Here for a White, Middle-Class American Male |
As some of you may have noticed, I'm not the most sympathetic person out there. I offer neutral, which is either more or less than what's expected, and since I don't fit into that category, it's a bit...
Posted by on Sun, 07 Dec 2008 07:03:00 GMT |
