|
|
cemetary
|
|
deb
|
sagebrush mingles with wilted thistles and sun-dried grass as watercolored clouds smear blue and grey in streaks of rain across the horizon- animal-human mutant faces blur the cool mid-afternoon sky while the pac-man lines in passing pavemant count one-two-three-one-two-three, putting that detestable 900 miles between myself and happiness again- hunger churns within my belly, wearing away; connecting to the hollow place in my chest as antelope are spotted at a shallow creek -looks so lonely in that ocean of barren land- the only thing keeping me from spilling those hot tears that i know are waiting... the only thing coaxing this sugary smile to stay is the sound of your music peppered with conversation and Mikey's company; the scenery only resonates emptiness, begging to use my voice to tell of its utter bleakness.
|
001022
|
|
... |
|
birdmad
|
Pet
|
001119
|
|
... |
|
Barrett
|
Semetary
|
001119
|
|
... |
|
Rhin
|
i can't go there anymore. it scares the hell out of me. we created a shine for you. i was so sure that i would never, ever find love again, that i gave up the day you died. my name is etched into that stone. it's very frightening now to see. the only empty space on the whole stone, is my death date...it's just waiting for me. i used to feel the closest to you when i would go there. i would lay on the ground beside you, and talk, sometimes 4 times a day. i would open up the jeep, and crank your stereo. nothing like nin screaming accross the cemetary. what i now feel, when i go there is guilt. i do have the capacity within my heart to love again, and i feel like i need permission from you. i have betrayed you. i couldn't go through with the plan. you know that i heard you. i painted the tree purple, baby. i guess deep down in the bottom of my heart, i just didn't trust that you would come for me, and to spend eternity consumed by all the things that leaves my soul in strips, was/is just too much to comprehend. i'm so sorry. i'm sorry from the bottom of my soul, but i can't give up on me.
|
001119
|
|
... |
|
Shugarhi
|
I always felt too odd entering a cemetary. I always thought that if I happened to step on a grave, a rotten hand would pop up and grab my foot and pull me underground to eat my brains and I would never get out and be alive again. I've stepped on a few graves in my lifetime, just to prove the movies wrong.
|
010521
|
|
|
what's it to you?
who
go
|
blather
from
|
|