| This is my mind on display, awaiting for you to open it's gallery doors, awaiting for you to peer inside. Come venture in it's labyrinth and find things you might never have expected. Welcome to the Insanity. |
promise mepromise mepromise me
that when i am gone you will not weep nor mourn you will look forward moving on
to bigger and better things see the world you never saw sing the songs you never sung embrace the ones who were never touched
but until then do not leave me nor abandon me stand there clutching my hand tightly
A certain kind of careFingers twisted and gnarled Brown and wrinkled Spread out like roots of a vast oak Longing to hold Longing to cherish Longing to stroke Longing to caress But nobody cares to beA certain kind of care
Touched To be Held To be cherished To be stroked To be caressed By callused hands Worn by work and pain Love and life We throw out the old Replace with the new Kick them to the curb But deep in us all We all wish that
The New contained Familiarity found in the Old and Worn
may i have this dance?take my hand and lead step by step, entrance me hold me close as we sway on cracked linoleum to the music of our heartbeats of our own melodies that we hum on one another's lipsmay i have this dance?
Layersprideful he stands confident and smiling women swoon over his every move jumping on every word with lust-filled fantasies he has perfect features chisled and precise a charming smileLayers
that grants him his every whim he gazes upon himself in the mirror and sees elegance and beauty pluck and charm but some see nothing amazing nor handsome nor courageous. a mere mouse or more of a rat is what some see manipulating and bitter uncaring and harsh and how true they are
| This is my mind on display, awaiting for you to open it's gallery doors, awaiting for you to peer inside. Come venture in it's labyrinth and find things you might never have expected. Welcome to the Insanity. |
| 'Ello, lovely little bloody crumpets! call me what you wilt, but remember, young children, that reality isn't all it seems and dreams are very real. |
ouch...
Hurt
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Life is not a succession of urgent "Now"s, it is a Listless trickle of "Why should I"s.
--
Now, the making of a good compilation tape is a very subtle art. Many do's and don'ts. First of all you're using someone else's poetry to express how you feel. This is a delicate thing.
-Rob Gordon from High Fidelity
--
Life is not a succession of urgent "Now"s, it is a Listless trickle of "Why should I"s.
--
Now, the making of a good compilation tape is a very subtle art. Many do's and don'ts. First of all you're using someone else's poetry to express how you feel. This is a delicate thing.
-Rob Gordon from High Fidelity
I love your icon, and.
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--
Life is not a succession of urgent "Now"s, it is a Listless trickle of "Why should I"s.