And will he not come again?O, my beloved long-haired blue-eyed boy, with your eyes of ice that burn with fire and those talented hands that sing songs so coy— you alone are dearer to me thanAnd will he not come again?
painting pretty pictures of tragic tales and writing words on withered pages dearer than those songs I wear as a veil dearer than all I have ever been—
that red thread ties us together so tight though those red wires keep us apart and even when they’re wrapped around my throat I feel you there and thus do not choke
but the children still chide and chant the most you lov
The Masquewe spend our numbered days in this masquerade locked in silent conversation each of us hearing a different beatThe Masque
and except for those fleeting moments when we are frozen in time we see nothing but these masks
we feel these lasting longings but cannot even feel the cold through this ghost-like nothingness
yet we are neither blind nor deaf nor mute we are merely chained and strangled by these fated red wires
i have a secret about these masks, my love: i wish to tear them apart so stopthemusicstopthedance
just feel me, hear
BLCI've always wanted to know who you are and who you were before we came before he came Who you were before the torture Who you were before the hunger Who you were before it all— And why you gave that up.BLC
And I want to know why you stayed— I know why you left— but not why you came back And why you let him do those things And why you did not run away And why you didn't abandon us— why didn't you abandon us?
It would have hurt so much less— because you would not have fallen because I would not ha
Side Effects and CigarettesEmpty eyes, sunken face, hanging mouth I’d ask what happened to that bright-eyed boy The one who with the dreams and the future But then I’d start to cry and wish to die While dwelling on what can no longer beSide Effects and Cigarettes
They always say that others have it worse And sometimes that is my only solace But when I stare into that lifeless face And when I watch he who now dreams to die How could anything else ever be worse?
Yet I know others have seen this before: Their loved ones wrapped in that warm and smoggy
embrace of addictive suicide And we’re he
| dreams dreams dreams |
findings
Hopeless
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i once asked myself, "Why do we feel so much pain?"
Upon thinking deeply about the question, i realized it was only to see beauty.
how IS the climate by the way? i mean, i imagine cold, but how cold? lol
glad you got headphones. that's my favourite way to listen to music <3
rawrrawrrawr
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i once asked myself, "Why do we feel so much pain?"
Upon thinking deeply about the question, i realized it was only to see beauty.
But they're in a tiny black bag that looks empty so I'm quite sure I'll get them back. I don't even use them, but they're good to have just in case D:
Exhaustion is what's up. So much exhaustion. ffffuck, i'm going to bed early tonight.
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i once asked myself, "Why do we feel so much pain?"
Upon thinking deeply about the question, i realized it was only to see beauty.
But, thank you for the watch and comments. And, in response, I'm glad I was able to cheer you up when you needed it, if only ephemerally. I hope you are inspired to write more poetry; what you have so far is beautiful.
SUCKER!!!
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Special thanks to Dragonsanddaffodils for the wonderful gift of my avatar
Special thanks to dkl78594 for the fabulous gift of a 12 month subscription
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