|
|
mixed_feelings
|
|
Joana.
|
Wanting to shun myself from all and nothing Life seems lifeless to me now When once was sun and wind Lies only a blotted canvas Waiting to be covered Should I paint it back Synesthesia style, voided of rules Only guided by the deafening senses Cherishing them in my fingertips As they waltz through my wrists Beaming up my veins? I want to care like I never did Without fear or taunting remorse. I want not to be this bound anymore Without him, that is how it feels.
|
020218
|
|
... |
|
carne de metal
|
like when it itches and you scratch untill it bleeds and itches more?
|
020218
|
|
... |
|
Joana.
|
Something like that, yes. I'm honoured that you actually replied to that, regardless of the intention. Thanks.
|
020219
|
|
... |
|
F. Brice
|
We are each one afraid that the other will do something horrible. First.
|
020219
|
|
... |
|
Syrope
|
what is he waiting on? if he wants me to go, i want to go...if he wants me to stay, i want to stay...but how do i do both?
|
020628
|
|
... |
|
littleidiot
|
like someone put my brain in a blender.
|
021121
|
|
... |
|
Calculus Luver #46
|
have to do this have to half two tomorrow to morrow i will go to do this fruit bliss half since yesterday
|
021203
|
|
... |
|
User24
|
so, it appears I am a God, unknown, but a God nonetheless, the creator, originator, unworshipped (thankfully) sometimes, I wish I could start all over. I suppose a voyage of discovery, however well trodden, is worth something to those who tread it. ah well, no use crying over spilt javascript. Sorry.
|
030618
|
|
... |
|
jane
|
no one ever understood the indirectness of what she was trying to say, no one understood that it wasn't really about them at all, it was about the pieces of herself that she found within them. pieces she was forced to turn away from, because they were too dangerous to look at. no one ever asked her if she would like a mixed drink with those mixed feelings, and if they did, they were just trying to get her drunk so they could get into her pants.
|
030618
|
|
|
what's it to you?
who
go
|
blather
from
|