I'm not perfect, nor will I ever be.
Trapped in my own insecurities,
screaming just let me be,
someone just set me free.
the good in me i'll never see.
I cannot blame anyone for the way I turned out,
it's always been myself who filled me with doubt.
Dark there looking out the window.
No stars i say.
A knife in the moon light.
Birds sing to the waves of dark.
Boat on the lake.
And the trees go by.
A lady stands by my side.
Words i have spoken she sed.
I no you cry the blood of angels.
Dream and oh dream.
The world away.
A rip in the fabric of your existence
And I knew that it was not true
I knew that it could only have been created by my deceiving mind
I never have something worth giving. I only hope it is so. I only
Would like it to be so. It gives me
The will to live...
The rubber band man,take what you need,stretch him out,and snap him back,oh what a familiar attack.Push mejust ******* push me.An angry man is blinded,rage is the only thing he can seethe heart races,the body trembles,the blood boils,the hair is pulled.There is no structure,when...
I've always loved expressing myself creatively. As a child I told stories and express myself through drawing, and once I learned to read it just opened up a new world for me. Words are so powerful. I remember reading Beverly Cleary books as a child that I loved (when I was in...
to break a heart,to break a heart is to tear one apart,to tear one apart completly from within,from within the heart shatters to pieces,to pieces so thin they could be passed through the eye of the needle,the needle slowly pricking at one to bring about pain,pain so unbearable...
Sometimes I just Love to free write about just whatever is on my mind. It's a beautiful day out the birds are singing the dogs are playing it's really quite amazing outside. It makes me wish I had that DSLR that I want cause then I'd show everyone how beautiful it is. I'm going...
Numb, dumb, impatiently numb. Is it curable? Is it lyrical? Could I make an opera? Could I sing in one? No more questions this is not a questionnaire. What fools do is ask foolish questions. Can you eat spirits? What's with all the questions. Maybe people need to...
When words aren't alone, but the feelings to atone slip into the happy memories of bliss you know you feel like writing but nothings is coming out. your flow is blocked. The ICH is to great. It's only trash. Doesn't matter how long you stare at these words they don't sum up your...
It's morning and I'm searching for the me I said good night to. Words don't seem to flow this early like emotions do, so I can't simply reach out as with a beggar's cup and catch the staggered stream. Dreams are like sponges sometimes - they sop up the soul of the real person...