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Hour 28She denied her food so nicely, with a stomach empty year round. She was lighter then a feather, and she never gained a pound. Her collar bones were but fatty, with a sculpted chin above, and althouhg her hair aws thinning, her heart was full of love. and her frame was oh so fragile, with that figure she would win, she greeted the sun each morning, and every evening with a grin. and although she saw the opposite, she acted so full o fglee, she trickerd her mother and father, and she almost had tricked me she was only but sixteen, and was skinnHour 28
by ~xxc8lynnxx
Poetry Is...the wire cutter,Poetry Is...
that defuses the bomb
before it explodes,
into a million tiny pieces.
Its the .38 caliber,
that shoots the words,
from the soul,
ending the pain.
Is it the bandage,
the helps heal the cut,
that had tainted
pale skin?
no, its the ripping of the bandage,
that exposes repressed feelings,
which had emerged from a once pain,
that flaked, but remained for some time
&n
by ~xxc8lynnxx
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: westchester, IL
- Interests: Photography, Graphic Arts, Music
- Favourite movie: Donnie Darko
- Favourite band or musician: too many to type
- Favourite genre of music: Rock
- Favourite poet or writer: poe
- Favourite photographer: Sally Mann
- MP3 player of choice: ipod
- Favourite game: tetris
- Favourite gaming platform: nintendo 64
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--
<3....<3
Have no fear of perfection, you'll never reach it.
-----SALVADOR DALI.....
SUPREME SURREALIST
--
And after all of this I am amazed,
That I am cursed far more than I am praised.
<3
--
Fuck the world. The world fucked me.
FUCK YOU.
--
ありす
arisu. ~*
--
1..2..3..4 Underneath the cellar floor.
5..6..7..8 Lover with suffocate.
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