A cut-out of a jagged heart
Cuts deep into my finger.
Why must doing nice things
bring me pain that lingers?
I know who I amThey say that I'm a coverup,
for who I wanna be.
but the truth is,
I'm just being me,
I'm being free,
I'm spreading peace.
SkinsBeneath the tattered
beneath the appearance
of all skins,
quakes the core
to the question
what do we
Whether it be
or a foe,
beneath the surface
there is a low,
the low stretches
from your heart
to the thoughts
in your soul.
Beneath the torn,
we all carry
you may not
the regret and shame,
this is you,
until you're dead
Into The DarkWhen light fades to dark,
a hush comes over the world.
The grass no longer sways,
the world no longer prays
The birds no longer sing,
the dreamers no longer dream
and I no longer believe,
when light fades into dark.
ClearlyWhen my world crashed down,
My heart fell with it,
and it became clear.
When your arms reached out towards me,
my hands returned the favor,
and it all became clear.
when my lips met yours,
I became enchanted,
and it all became clear.
when your hugs blanketed me,
my broken heart was mended,
and it all became clear.
I love you.
I can'tyou hurt my heart,
you disappointed my soul,
You broke my trust,
I just don't know
if I can love you,
I tried to care,
I tried to improve,
I tried to be perfect,
I just don't know
if I can love you,
like a dime
topples over and
through the stars
kind of high.
Remember when I said?in the depths
of my mind,
I don't worry
about little things.
I will always
think out loud,
I will preach
love and peace.
to be happy
you must venture,
always keep your
head up high.
and when life
falls down hill,
never forget i'm
by your side.
Be asBe as aware of the dark
as the stars in the sky,
Be as strong as a knot
as the shoes that you tie,
Be as caring as a mother
who nourished you to life,
Be as calm as the ocean
with a low summer tide,
Be as creative as a child
as you go on a life time of rides.
A Pre-DreamYour arms wrapped around me
stretching for what seems like miles.
You grip the flannel around me
I search deep into your soul
as I lay a kiss upon your neck.
Your hands now rest flat
on the small of my back.
Chills dance to the tip of my spine
as you kiss my lips
time stops for you and I.
we hold eachother close
with hearts so weightless and light,
I dream of drifting far away
as you whisper these words,
"I love you, and good night."
teen sitcomshe's a carousel of lovers; bow before homecoming queen
built from holy Roman marble and a pound of Maybeline
a hundred cameras catching teeth; unconscious girl out the door
friendship bracelets slipping off and melodrama turns to gore
cherries popped beneath high-heels; pulses slow down to a crawl
no more teacups, dolls are gone- big girls play with alcohol
ShadesI'll lay you down upon this bed,
Eyes blinded with a strip of black cloth.
I'll take my time to circle around you.
Enjoying the light aroma of fear and sweat;
Mixed with just a hint of excitement.
I'll see your legs pushed together,
Perhaps in anticipation.
Or would it be the butterflies;
That dance a shade of scarlet upon your cheeks.
I'll take my time to run these fingers
Along your soft milky white skin.
And even before you part your lips to confirm it,
I'll already know that you belong to me.
And in this dark harvest of season
My life has completely lost reason,
For which or against to decide.
All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tide
In sadness and in kindness
In light and in darkness.
In a boat made of hope
I shall sail to tomorrow,
In a winding hurricane
Made of treachery and sorrow.
There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...
Piercing, slashing though my head.
Starting somewhere in heaven,
Ending somewhere in hell.
Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.
Are the armies within.
In my head they are all thrashing.
On the heaven's and hell's whim.
To be light or to be darkness.
A perpetual array.
It's not merely my choice,
But the choice of the way.
It's an option of the voice,
It's a thin line of gray.
Is it a choice forced by fate,
Is it a pre-set time and date?
Or a choice to which I myself sway?
But here's our story anyway .
"Nothing that I do will matter.
As all things will merely shatter!"
All my hopes thus darkness scatter,
As it shoves me a decree.
As it si
RainShe was bloated, swollen in her
Own melancholy moisture
Threadbare at her contours
Unravelled into gray woolen
Strings, too loose for her skin
And they drained off her shoulders
To pool in a waxy heap by her
She was rounded by opaque
Moons, liquid apricity. The life
In her womb churned, awakening
From quiescence. Her being
Shuddered from the maelstrom within
And in a great wailing cry of woe
Her waters burst in a ferocious
She roiled under each contraction
As unearthly poetry thundered from her
Throat, emblazoned with lightning. Her
Child is birthed, swaddled in her failing
Body, decrescendo heartbeat.
And as the babe breathed, the wind
Abandoned her shallow lungs,
The Night VisitShe arrives on time each night,
With a flurry of quick footsteps,
Followed by a timid knock at my door.
The reply I give her is often curt,
'Enter,' I'll say
And she does.
I spend a moment taking stock of her appearance:
Noticing bare skin beneath a heavy brown coat.
A few droplets of sweat run down her neck,
And she swallows nervously as she awaits my instruction.
I approach her slowly;
Enjoying this moment where the distance closes.
My eyes take their time to pull her into focus,
And like a bolt of awareness she becomes vivid;
Her lips a sparkling red and utterly lush for a kiss...
Her eyes are doe-eyed and completely tame;
Her makeup is perfect, as I've always liked.
But I can tell, beneath that flawless surface,
That it was rushed under a dim streetlight.
At this point our lips are separated by a bare inch,
I like to leave this distance as I stare into her eyes.
I enjoy the way her breath quickens as I ask her the question,
The question that beg
The Death that is Left BehindI.
the layers laid,
alone is a man who scrapes
outward. He is
like the child fallen
down a deep well, who
sees the way is up and yet
scratches stone walls
instead--the flesh of
fingers giving way, symbolizing
a waning vivacity sealed
in the center of his diamond-hard
Sound is a physic; music, a friction--
white hot motion to motionless
souls. It is pain and heat, terrible
and beautiful, healing, and the death
that is left behind.
progress reportthe astronauts never returned and neither did the news
in my hands i fold a megalithic pigeon
the take-home message is: the cosmos is a cold dead bitch
as you sleep under magazines, waiting for nothing.
in the shackles of a sterilized den, there's an actual
mastodon heart, pale and glassy pink, icy film
tightened like a fist; - and the scientists despair:
it's the morning of the opening,
then the few slashes of paralyzing waves.
like a sign we'd make when we were younger, a way to disarm
a bandit, or a preacher
or the oncoming horde of space invaders.
but the drawings you sent to venus never returned,
and now the crack,
and the scientists at a loss before the angered public.
they release a report that states that the floodgates opened
by themselves, that the valves erode
like the chalky sand that will swirl and hiss
Not My Kind of Fairy TaleDon't give me the Knight
Whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the Knight,
Whose armor is dull and broken.
Whose horse is weary,
Whose heart is heavy.
Give me the Knight who looks at the dragon with pity,
For that dragon has done nothing,
And is just as imprisoned as the princess he guards.
Don't give me a princess who only wishes to be saved,
By that Knight whose armor shines so bright.
Give me the princess who wishes to escape yes,
But wants to free the dragon,
Who does not wish to marry her savior--
Nay, give me the princess who wants to explore,
Who wants to live and to learn.
For the years of imprisonment only made her yearn,
Not for the Knight whose armor shines bright,
But to see the world and live in the light.
Do not give me the evil dragon,
Whose soul purpose is to give that bright Knight something to fight.
No, give me the dragon who is weary,
Who longs for the freedom of the sky,
Whose leg is burdened with chains,
And whose heart aches for the princess he must guard,
AnimeAs soon as i saw Anime on Tv I was happy to see it played,
I Like inuyasha, FMA, Naruto and many others but why?
At 34 years old loving anime, isn't this strange?
Loving Anime is loving someone
You cherish it forever
Until You die but Anime is Amazing what they can do today..
Its in 2-D, 3-D and CG's But no matter what,
Anime to me will always cherish me into my heart and soul
When i was younger Anime never existed,Why?
Anime will stay into the younger kids today,
Anime will rule the world maybe someday?
What can you do not without a pencil today?
You Can draw Anime,
You Can always give you're best shot to draw even if you're not good enough,
True isn't it?
You can put Anime on Tv, on a website about everything,Anime Kick Butt.