

TripI am a facade, an empathetic soul in a fallen city. I woke up this morning and thought I was floating. If I didn't exhale, I would've hit the ceiling. So I came crashing down. Should I have forgotten to breathe? I feel so desolate. My heart is fucking shattering. I can't remember what made me feel this way. Why does it hurt if I can't recall? My subconscious hurts me so much. My lover has beautiful hands. Even worse, a sly smile. It still tears me down and I'm not sure whether or not to pray. These kind of nights are killing meTrip
July 29th, '08


LamentI'm not quite sure just where to begin or even how it'll end. All I can do is watch the embers burn to a gorgeous ash of grey. So let's start from the beginning, the aesthetic beginning. Why does it seem like I try oh so hard to push him away? They say the grass is always greener. But I see no grass on my side of the fence. From a distance I see the boy lay upon the tracks. For my actions, how can I ever fucking repent? I can't find where I lost the boy at..will he sleep alone? Words are just that; I've spoken without forethought. The train steams forward, he may breathe a sigh of reLament


Sick SonnetsIts far too late to try again. Her moods are so fucking contagious. Ill peel away my skin and start all over. These faces make the strangers seem not so strange. Have I been here before? A misunderstanding is an understatement. Foreign diseases may disintegrate my bones. Its sick and its disgusting, this emotion that eats at me. Im still screaming, "This isnt right, it hurts far too much! And why cant I get this ink off my hands?!" Bright blue eyes pull me from the floor and pin me to a wall. "The emotion is adoration. The inks yoSick Sonnets
| Kate. 18. AL. |
--
"Many a man hath done so; sought to fence
In straitened bonds the soul that should be free,
Trodden the dusty road of common sense,
While all the forest sang of liberty" -- Oscar Wilde
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