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the searchSoundless voices. My mind is with you. It's with you. It's only with you. You, I want to be with you. You are enough for me. You… you are not even real.the search
I will gather those meaningless words spilled over from such a thought and shove them down the throat of someone who cares. They can regurgitate what was already spoken with their own personal touch to it, in a failed attempt to help me understand myself better. Listening to everything that has already been heard before… makes all your voices sound the same.
I only want to hear your voice, but my mind can't create voices that do not belong to me. Self-sati
by ~cherryliqueurs
if you don't come backBeyond these rusted bars stained with tears lies a delicate tomorrow, coated with cracked white paint turned yellow through endless yesterdaysif you don't come back
Promises spill over from countless goodbyes, melting into the land of betrayal where we once made a vow to break free of the prison we were born into
Your words slip into the space between these shackles and my skin, as they gently heal abrasions of desperations from growing frustration
We're standing ankle deep in a pool of our own body fluids, the only proof of how long we've been here Drenc
by ~cherryliqueurs
Creating VoidThe space here is filled with an endless ocean that does not exist The world underneath ripples with created void and silent voices You are there, I am here, or at least, that is what I thinkCreating Void
We have never touched each other,
but the air we share touches the other as we pass through infinite pathways coupled with possibilities we cannot comprehend before being separated while sifting through choices, mistakes and epiphanies buried beneath the soil of the ocean floor in the ocean that does not exist only to become one with compassion, confessions and competitions.
We're flushed red at the core with
by ~cherryliqueurs
Random Favourites
I cut too deepI turn on the sink to hide my deed The door is already locked and closed Unfortunately, this time, I’ve cut too deep While both arms I exposedI cut too deep
Eyes cinched shut No tears will escape As I begin To deteriorate
Warm waters run out of my blood cold arms Dripping off my blue fingertips No amount of praying or charms Will rescue me from these collecting drips
Knees weaken and give out beneath me I fall to the floor Water still running Arms still flowing
I stare up to where I think Heaven is My eyes speak more grief than
by ~DawningDreams
babyby ~sleepyfeet
fix meby ~sharonboch
The heart, the mind, the body, the soul.
LazyDevious Info
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- Favourite poet or writer: Ellen Hopkins
- Website: http://www.skeletalsex.wordpress.com
- MSN: hypnagogicheart@gmail.com
- Skype: charnanie
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''L, do you know death gods love apples?''
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Sign the One petitition!
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Farts are fun!!! Ó3Ò *prrrrrrt*
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,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.
The vase, reconstructed, houses
The elusive rose.
Ten fingers shape a bowl for shadows.
My mendings itch
-Plath
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[it could be worse, always]
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"La belleza de mi piel se desborda en aquellos adorables y tiernos ojos de mi amado..."
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