| Something a little different from my usual style. |


Unrequited.That pendulum has done nothing but swing, all day. And the sands in that hourglass, will never cease their falling.Unrequited.
Are you in love, or imprisoned by limerence? Poetry can't love you back, kid; face it, before you're too far poisoned by its enigma, and its wretched, beautiful complexity. Didn't it break your heart? And shatter your soul?
no. Poetry could never do that It gave me a soul as it sung, and mended my heart with its tears; Something you could never do.


A million paths...your eyes scream amazement as raindrops fall onto your baby pink cheeks. There is no room in your tiny heart for loving poetry, just yet, but one day, maybe you'll learn, And loveA million paths...


I want a straight-jacket...This is a place for people like me, as you so lovingly call it.I want a straight-jacket...
So what am I? don't they say that I'm a special case? yes that's what they call me, the ladies in white dresses, who never miss my tea parties
But still I don't know who am I? "I am the shadow on the moon at night, filling your dreams to the brim with fright "
"You're a special case", they say to me, in soothing tones dripping with lithium. fuck, I know that; I've known it for years! No one else seems to hear the night wind shrieking, wailing my name I know it


By the Darkness, or Overcome.You switched the light off to leave me with a harsh kiss of fire-like "guilt". (You were obliged to say "I'm sorry", one-hundred-fucking- thousand times, but for God's sake! Stop claiming you mean it.)By the Darkness, or Overcome.
You locked the door behind you. And you just left me to wither and rot, although I think you were hoping I'd just die there in the dark, when you swore you never would, never could be a killer. coward. traitor. liar. charlatan
But thank you: Breaking down that door made me strong, because it obviously didn't kill me.
| Mostly emotional poetry, or poetry that I have written just by messing around with different, pretty sounding words. Some photos are there also. |
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avatar credited to Kikariz
Music be my soul... well what's left of it.
Fur is murder. Meat is food, but I still won't eat it.
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Poetry is thoughts that breathe
And words that
~Thomas Gray.
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R.I.P Grandpa, 9th of January 2010
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"There is no turning back
From all the confines of regret
Reminders of that day will haunt you
Nights you never slept
And every time you separate the body from the mind
And look into yourself and see what you've left behind."
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Poetry is thoughts that breathe
And words that
~Thomas Gray.
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I wanted to make music that impact the people's lives.
- Mikey Way
--
Poetry is thoughts that breathe
And words that
~Thomas Gray.
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R.I.P Grandpa, 9th of January 2010
--
Poetry is thoughts that breathe
And words that
~Thomas Gray.
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