

post-its from a cemetery.the sky's in a murky blue- she died yesterday.post-its from a cemetery.
thunder's lighted eyes splits, stars scattering over open fields
from the impact.
open the ivory clouds, swallow my tongue whole and watch me bleed.
scented hair trailing after your wind- please don't be my angel tonight.


river river down the stream.pearls running down the hill with jack and jill tumbling down. you are not a burden,river river down the stream.
but you are sinking me whole.
engagement rings you say, is a form of promise. but i am horrified by the concept
of promises, and i am too terrified to tell you so.
i'm anemic, you say, and my wrist are running deep green rivers of what you need, but i am absolutely scared of giving and receiving.
your phone is awaiting for my reply, and is dulling down
to a faded black. but my fingers are stiff
today, drenched in freezing excus


the butterfly's prayer.butterfly- petals floating on the lake surface- the cresent rages on at night...the butterfly's prayer.
the windows bangs and clangs relentlessly; my heart prays on, in bitter murmurs.
do you hear that? can you, hear that?
nagging autumns rattles on,
searching missions for lost tears
forced on cold delays.
silence-
broken snowflakes shines a beautiful melody- tea cups long cold, reeks a poigant nostalgia.
winter has come, and you, have yet returned to my arms.
蝶- 湖面中漂浮着的


hear that pin drop.sleep on-hear that pin drop.
night's always young when you're awake, crickets never stay quiet even in the solemnest of wakes.
a filter of black and white is not enough to keep the colours away,
gales soaking up sunshine glows in the moon's face when the stars starts staring. minds in overdrive, eyes straining in presence of broken bulbs whisper, for a little love poem.
dream on-
fireflies never run out of nightmares to burn, people's eyes never fail to judge that little girl begging by the streets. the storm's over and houses are simply missing their roofs-
there are no rainbows in sight.
| i love writing. maybe too much. i am trying to, write in a nice straight way so pardon me, kay? i quite like to watch drama and life and people because they're facinating, and does not really waste time. oh, well, according to my not quite brilliant mind. i'm a christian and am proud to be. i love Him, my one and Only God. strawberry milk don't have a place though. this place, and the words here, are technically my heart. so, i will appreciate it if you don't use it. without my, permission. (above, character count = 15, with spaces. for each line. so here goes! oh i love you. |
by *trenchmaker
by =r3novatio
xo!
--
an antique arms and armor expert
Thanks for
Best lyden
--
brandtz
Audio & Graphic Shop
Portfolio
Prints
--
( it'sgonnabealright )
xo!
--
an antique arms and armor expert
--
Now me lay down to sleep.
Mow da zeebas down like sheep.
Give dem to me nice and dead.
Me no happy til me fed.
-Bedtime prayer of crocs, Pearls Before Swine
--
"Imagination is a quality given a man to compensate him for what he is not, and a sense of humour was provided to console him for what he is." Oscar Wilde
--
"Puhe ei kuulu tänne" (J. Kiiskinen)
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