FinaleLong live all the mountains that we movedFinale by ~OnceUponAWinter
All the dragons that we killed
And the lives that were never ours
I gave you all my bullets
And you only gave me words
But still we somehow managed
To believe that we were God
So long live all the children
The reckless and the brave
Our art was only murder
The finale; suicide
I don't want to fall in loveThe thing isI don't want to fall in love by ~OnceUponAWinter
I don’t want to fall in love
I want someone to fall in love
But how is that going to happen
When all I am is lost and broken
When I’m more than a misfit –
The outsider of the outsiders
How can you love me?
If I’m hiding under blankets crying
For no reason
If I cut myself again
I can’t even love myself
So why would you?
The ideals of paradiseJack and coke was all she lived for;The ideals of paradise by ~OnceUponAWinter
Little pastel girl
With nothing left but ideals
When she closed her eyes
Aldi leaflet came. Took a trip to doc.s.Puckler schnitten,Aldi leaflet came. Took a trip to doc.s. by ~Kastalite
My level was "sub therapeutic".
We're upping it once again.
A wire brush set,
A wonder mop, lightweight,
Blood test in 3,
See doc, 4 weeks,
That's not too long to wait.
Ladies socks with lycra,
Pair of axle stands.
For added security,
A cross cut shredder,
Aluminium venetian blind.
Pocket size, portable music,
Now I might just go for that,
The doc says my condition is serious,
Had a little head zap as I sat -
She thought it was indigestion,
I explained it was a brain attack.
Castello duetti, 39p,
Boy, do they look tasty,
Legs giving way as I walked there and back,
I must ha
For those whose salve is lonely painThou hast bequeathed meFor those whose salve is lonely pain by ~edgarwhitmanwilde
A Monster of iniquity
Where comedy and tragedy
Form themselves upon
The rhythms of my life
One that is not
Impoverished of ridicule
A letter in a cemeteryVandalized ink stainsA letter in a cemetery by ~edgarwhitmanwilde
Where my feelings
Were washed away
if I cry it is for help
If I'm sick it is a love song
Written on the soul
Where help is wanted
For emaciated corpses
You know, yes you know
Where the dead eyes are
Down among the leaves
Watching, watching, watching
neverlandi'm giving myself ten minutes to grow up,neverland by ~estallidos
and with every minute that passes i am remembering
balloons and party hats and streamers
and the second star to the right,
straight on 'til morning.
every year i write myself a poem for my birthday,
but this year i think i'll write a poem about
peter pan and he'll die in the end and everyone
will be sad. i'll be the saddest though,
because there comes a point in your life
when you realize that you're not peter pan,
or wendy, or even a lost boy.
(how sad, i think, to be lost but not a lost boy.
it doesn't matter though, because neverland isn't
real and now look, i'm another year