StruggleWhy is my heart so filled with sin?Why must I struggle with this filth within.Save me Lord from myselfAnd show me how to love.
Sleep TightIt's a bright night.I might write about:Thoughts of a fight!Then a flight from spite...Don't bite.. You're too uptight.But don't delight in your plight.It's not right to skite.What a sorry sight.Gotta reach quite a height.I'm not quite uprightOn this bright night.Sleep tight.Sorry sight.
FatigueI have had enough ofThis bitter drink.Too tired to think.
Sinful WorldA broken man, shattered by his lover.Fallen tears splash in the gutter.I am sickened by this sinful world.Why do people have to hurt one another?
Another Day - Another NightWhy do I sit at the computer all dayWhiling weary hours away?I think the nights must know me well,Hoping for something to cheer my soulI fear the sleep that steals my timeAnd while away another day.
The SpectatorFrustration finds itself in you.And if you weren\'t such a favoured friend,I may have never bothered.But since your friendship means so muchI will throw myself into the depths of despair,And leave with down-turned face,The notion of a friend behind,Who shared my weekends kickingA ball around a park.I hope that we will long remain friends,And with that hope I lift myself from the depths,To enjoy your company as you freely give it,And set my sights on the game.
Butterflies of Your LoveA torrent of soft wings floodover my closed eyes,as I see myself from the outside,dreaming of you.Butterflies (a million shades of white)caress my faceand flow around melikeyour love.
Silence haikuano hito desu.shizuka ni narimasu.utsukushii desune.
I drownI too fight against the tide.As I am pulled backand forwardI hopeThis torment makes meWiser not weaker.And as we pass the breakersI find it ever more difficultto swim ashore.I feel guilt, like a weight,pulling me underAs I drown in your emocean.
you are not real lifeyou don't do this sort of thing.so when you did, your heart didn't flutter at the thought,it leapt to a place you've not been.you've not seen,you've not gone with you.and compulsively, you run your handover the spot where you pressedyour cheek against that morning.wanting your imprint where it laid,this is a story of what could have been and this is deja vu,toro y moi become oneand you are bullheaded.causers of this,you are a son of venusnot of taurus descentand you're not surewhat it is you have fordecember women.sagittarius mutablenot mute-ablealthough you are muteand this is mootdespite cardinalstubbornnessand carnal desire.shoot the scalesin your favorbecause you arefalling into somethingyou have never known. you are not one for benefits,friend, you are >and blind eye < second-person
A Clockwork of ConsistencyA Clockwork of Consistency 9/23/14He sat alone on a lonely bench.Green paint faded and chipped-weathered by the salty Gulf of Mexico.It had been there - a silentwatcher of the sea for as longas he could remember.He had made a habit of goinghere early to greet the sunand start the day right -with a small prayer and a coffee.He had done this for three straightyears - a creature of routine.It gave him comfort and peace.A serenity he was never able toduplicate anywhere else.He felt less alone with thisbench and the rising sun ashis stable and reliable friends.Sometimes a tear would form in his eyewhen the beauty was too much.On this particular morning he was so lostin his thoughts and so entrancedby the vivid colors before him thathe barely registered her - sittingon the bench beside him.How long had she been there?How long would she stay?"Sunrises leave me in awe.Do you not agree?" shequietly asked as she turned to him.He had no words to say so henodd
king's habit.i'm a tumblr crossed t,dotted eye, dilated pupilof the aroused and petrified.a mydriatic prophetprofiteering from the trafficof the caravan traffickingin the curves of my psychelike the spaghetti junction.trap house, glass house, greenhousewith rose colored lenses,with white mosquito in my pocket--it's attracted to the sanguinein the bane of my existence-- no,the vein of my confusion,but i will not crackunder the puffer test.
O Polemistis Ki O Iereas Ο Πολεμιστής Κι Ο Ιερέας Ήταν πολεμιστής, αλλά μετά από εκείνη την ημέρα δεν είχε αγγίξει το σπαθί του. Του είχαν πει ότι μετά το βουνό υπήρχε μια εκκλησία και ένας ιερέας που ίσως τον β
darling, darling. i.you were in mydreams again,darling. i felt you in mybones again,d a r l i n g, and when i awoke i thoughtthat it wasyears ago.and you were yelling andscreaming andasking me where you were, whereyou had been, the worst partwas that icouldn't answer you. in allof your anger,you were still the one personwhose name stung mythroat.ii.you were in myhead again,darling, andpart of me wishes that youhadn't left.my mother told me that peoplewould often break your heartif you loved them toomuch, so i guess that justmaybethis is my fault afterall.iii.but now i am highagain andthinking of last winter and howi spent itwith you, and how i amkind ofdoing it again thisyear.
Swallowing BricksSometimes every syllableis like swallowing a brickand I can't speak because I'm too busy rolling my tongue in gravelchewing the mud I want to slingbut holding it backonly for it to pressurize into a solid rock that leaves my stunned lipsLike spitting bullets into the wind and being surprised whennothing flies back.You say you want to feel something real,So I bleed my heart out,and you say “No, I said REAL.”and everything smells like tears,or whatever tears aresupposed to smell like,because in my mind they smell like you in the morninglike your smile in the bend of my necklike the bricks we've etched our fingerprints into.They smell real.
To my friendShe's alway's there when I am sad,In times of need when things are bad.She smiles with me when I am glad andTempers me when I am mad.Ever gentle; sheRemains - the best friend I have ever had.