You Paintyou are worth nothing without me.everything you are is what i have given you.stupid, ignorant wordsyet when they fall like acidfrom the lips of your belovedyou are forced to look around youand see what is there -not what you want it to be.in that instant of realizationyou are stripped of everythingthe colors drained from the cute little lifeyou've painted for yourselfand suddenly, the black and whitetoo stark for you to deal withhow could you have not seenthese fatal flaws in the design?oh, you painted over them.bright, brilliant colorslayer upon layerYou paint.And the green that made them think of emerald fieldswas for the endless nights spent cryinguntil your eyes screamed for restand your lungs were too tired to sob anymorethe red strokesthose are for the hours spentso angry you frightened yourselfso full of rage you questioned your sanityand no one knewyou're too embarrassed to admityou made yet another wrong choiceso you paint again.more breathtakin
Sphere of My Soulno one's ever seen inside this(can't let them ever)fragile sphere i hold(see this)no one's ever reached out to(gently...be careful)touch past the outer wounds(I know it's ugly but)to the shimmering colors within(look farther)the barely burning flame of hope(can I still believe?)that wavers yet never dies(Do I dare to dream this?)wish someone would(god i wish you would)but i guess i'm damaged goods now.(forget it)soft spoken words(can't believe this)and love songs you sang(you saw this and you're still here)warmed and nurtured it(you're still reaching farther)healed the cuts until all that is left(you've been hurt too?)are the thin white scars(can I touch yours?)the reminder of what i was,with the overlay of what could be(I'm afraid to think of it all!)think i love you(hope)but i'm scared(aren't you?)happysadsighingyou think i'm mixed up,don't you?say no.(I need you to.)so here I stand before you(looking down at the ground)i hold my soul in bl
Dear DiaryDear diary.hmm. i'm still in my life.still sitting here in this skinwondering if I will ever get out.not really sure if I need towant to.eh. anyway.let's try this again - I got sidetracked.dear diary.why do i write "dear diary"?who am I writing to?not like I have someonewho will read this and think,what a profound person.it's not like anyone cares to seewhat's in my headmy eyesthis paper full of worthless crap I write.okay.dear whoever you are.guess I'm writing to myself.probably could, since I don't even knowwho i amwhat I want.feel better around strangers...you can be who you want.not who you are.who'd want to be that?not me.maybe if I knew who I was,i'd be that.can i be you?are you worth being?i'm bored.be something else for a whilewant to slide out of my skinlike a snakeslither into anotherand taste the edges with my tongueor maybe not.maybe i'll just finish this stupid thingi'm trying to write.dear diary...
The Ocean Of Timethe ocean of time is deceptively calmbefore i knew iti was far from where i thoughtand no amount of swimmingwill take me back to shorewhere the children play so carefreeand life is toys in the sandforever's horizon loomsnot so far off as i thinkand tomorrow is almost long ago
Adventures in TV Shoppingwatch the infomercial for a sticky green goo"guaranteed to get your legs baby smooth"see the furry guy get his leg hair ripped offbut he's smiling!it must not hurt too badwave my hand to dispel the protestsof a husband who's lived through this beforecan't dial the phone fast enoughI GET AN EXTRA BOTTLE IF I CALL RIGHT NOW!pay the 5 bucks for really fast shippingand feel a swell of pride hearing they'll throw in a bottleof fat fighter pillsI'm such a good bargain shopperI ignore the sad, pleading look on my husband's faceand run to the fridge for more beer.3 days laterit comes.Adrenaline courses through my veinskid on christmas morningbut this kid will be SMOOTHtoss aside the booklet and the "prep soap"i saw the commercial.I can do this.where to do it...ah yes.inside of my leg!that's an important spot.smear the sticky gloprub the cloth over it...oh god what if this hurts?rip.oh god it DID hurt.wipe the watering eyessurvey the damagewhat? 1 hair on the c
the train rideriding on a trainin the dead of nightchildren whisper to their motherswhere are we goingis it very far yet?fall is turning to winterand the snow settleslike a blanket of silenceas they shuttle to their destinationthe mothers comfort their tiredand try to feed their hungrywe're going to have cocoa when we get there!nervous smilesand tightly squeezed handsare shared by alldon't know what's going onbut we're sure it will all be finetongues clucking softlywhile the fathers sit like stonecontemplating choices maderifling through the variationsof what could have happenedas they gently run their fingers overthe six-pointed star on their sleeves.
Forever UntitledEver think about how long forever really is?We throw the word around...but do we really think?That's as far as the mind's eye can think to goand then a lot farther.That's a long time.and yet we say forever like it's nothing.Ever really listen to a wedding vow?Til death do us part.not forever, really...but it's OUR forever.to have and to holdfor better or worse.yet we walk away from these vows every day.What does a promise mean?If I tell you I will do something, but don't promise,does it matter if I don't do it?If I say I promise does it make a difference?what is forever?what's a vow?what's a promise?do we mean them?do we know?
five sensessight.the blush of your cheeksas his eyes pass over youand the corners of his mouth curvein the slightest of inviting smilessmell.as he walks over and is suddenlythere.hint of his colognethe touch of woods and summertimesound.as his voice washes over yougentle, almost shy hellodrawn to the words he speakshours of this you could listen totouch.as his fingers brush your handelectricity running nowyour skin isn't all he can feelanticipation in the airtaste.as his lips touch you ever so lightlysuddenly it's all theretogether, separate, same, differentthe five senses of desire.
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