i am handsymy arms are longing for your body to hold forever and ever and i would never let goi am handsy
my foot is creeping toward yor leg, but it wants to be closer my fingers are tingling for you rside to stroke the palm of my hand is what you're prefers it wants are finger tips to dance to their own beat and allow my body to capture your scent.
the feelings stirring me upi had a box a little glass box that was perfect there wasn't a noticeable scratch, smear, or smudge on my box i had a glass lid on my box underneath this lid was a clear blue sky my clear blue sky came withthe feelings stirring me up
golden sunshine and dragonflies sunshine that i hoped to keep forever i had a little daisy dust kept in my box just for the touch orf personality i had the scent of laughter and smiles in my box i had all these perfect wonders in my box until the lid of the box unlatched all the amazing wonde
poetry over cellphones.rhythm rhythm rhythm approach me gently begin to overwhelm the drum of my ear bathe my soul soothe me for your sound is all i wish to hearpoetry over cellphones.
rhythm rhythm rhythm come closer within sink into my esophagus
then reach my eyes shake me with fear allow me to cry
rhythm rhythm rhythm your beat is all i need to feel now overtake my body allow me to dance play with my limbs shake my head
rhythm is you.
turn your heart upside right.A picture of smiling faces means nothing at all. No, not if the scene behind the glass lense is all a rehearsed act of frowns and pessimistic minds She who walks with red hearts flipped over,turn your heart upside right.
but smiles for show, fakes no one but her audience alone. This act is old and played and the camera is off so Speak up! Speak up! and open your heart, body, mind and soul. as A picture of smiling faces means nothing at all. No, not if the scene behind the glass lense is all a rehearsed act of frowns and pessimistic minds
You Can't FixYour hands press against mine like thorns of a rose (they used to fit perfectly into mine like two corresponding pieces to a puzzle) and your words pierce right through me like a shard of glass, stiffening up my lungs and stealing the breath right out of me.You Can't Fix
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Your tears fall like the first snow of winter, making me freeze in place; unable to do anything but sit by idly and watch you break into a million pieces (the beauty of winter's first snow) happen right before my guilt-ridden eyes.
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Sometimes I'll stare into your eyes and watch them fill up with hurt, just so I will have s
the real meI can't tell you who I am. Afraid who want like me.the real me
I'm afraid you'll be disappointed in me. And runaway like you never knew me.
And to tell you this isn't really me, Would be like diving into my personal Hell forever.
Cause right now I'm the perfect girl. Who you brag about. But only I know how I really feel.
Empty, un-emotional, feeling so unreal. Like no one even knows me. I'm just afraid to show you the real me.
a sorry excuse for an update.
Excited
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Read Cynchick's story, Vespertine,
[link]
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"Spiritual progress does demand at some stage that we should cease to kill our fellow creatures for the satisfaction of our bodily wants."
-Mahatma Gandhi.
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My Beta Testing Portfolio. My store.
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