I used to rule the world...
I used to be the one who risk his teenage life
every night-
with a roll of the metaphorical dice-
I could save one-
or lose mines.../
For some reason I can't explain-
now I'm the used to be-
affectionately named by the ones who used me/
And now......people look at me and are afraid-
as this is a different day..
And I might be the same to some... Read More »
When I ride a bus to school I notice the little kids as they play games pretending to be older or siblings or even animals. Some of them still play with Pokemon cards. They laugh and cry a lot, and sometimes they can be loudly annoying. One minute they can be bestfriends, another minute they aren't friends at all. Read More »
The voices of those weary sing such a melancholy tune
My toxic tears fall like their words, creating an infectious pond of misery
Their song pulls the few strings still remaining on my heart
Killing their essence so as to kill the remaining ache inside me
Even the lonliest whispers just breeze across my lips
With no hello, no goodbye---
Just a numbing sense of pounding obscenity Read More »
Scattered thoughts and unfamiliar scents that are dusted on your neck and your fair complexion that stands out in the night, as your sweet kisses consume me, I become a thief, trying to steal moments that me and you can connect once again and bring back that feeling of belonging. Read More »
It's inevitable that what you want to be when you "grow up" will most likely change as you go through the actual process of "growing up".
I just wanted to talk about my own personal "growing up" process and how my future career hopes have changed. Read More »
On the insistance of a member, here's a poem I published in the Creative Writing site of ProgressiveU. While I'm on the subject, more people should click the creative writing tab under thier name (to the right). Its a worthwhile site and you should all check it out.
Death Takes a Lover Read More »
She still goes on,
She smiles as she waits,
Growing her flowers,
At the garden gate,
Pure and blameless
She walks in light,
The truth guides her heart,
Though there’s longing inside.
She will whisper no lie,
She will harbor no hate,
She protects her heart,
With a garden gate,
Beautifully waiting,
She holds the key,
To give to the one,
That will make her complete, Read More »
"The brittleness of glass does not consist in fact that it is at any given moment actually being shivered. It may be brittle without ever being shivered."
I read this in my philosophy book and it struck me. I had to write it down. And send it to two friends to whom i write letters on occassion. It's a dying art. Read More »
