UntitledForgiveness does not come cheap the second time around. Once, The first, the finely spun tale was believed; was accepted. And friendship blossomed between us again. The inevitable happened once more.Untitled
The excuses and the lies that you told. You said them so sincerely, you probably believed them yourself. But the excuses were for my ears, alone. They were not needed for friend number 2, 3 and 4. Only for this one. The supposed friend number one.
I always have to learn to trust anew, because of people like you. I always get let dow
_A Question of Ideals_Maybe if I shy away from reality... it wont exist._A Question of Ideals_
Maybe if I hold my hands over my ears... screaming my lungs out of my chest... everything will just slip away.
Maybe... everything will just "poof", and be gone. Wouldnt it be nice if there was a middle plain... where we could just float for eternity? Everything surrounding would be empty space; pitch black like a vat of tar. There'd be no stars to reach for, no pandemonium for the top. An equal plain.
Is this a communistic ideal?
Existentialism on Prom NightHeart boxers and Incubus shirts... the smell of him fills my head with fantastical thoughts of the night before. When I was closely cuddled next to his still, sleeping form. That feeling of wholeness that non could surpass.Existentialism on Prom Night
I awoke that morning warm and full of happiness. Just remembering the whispered phrases and meaningful carresses. Giving me a distracted air; daydreams invading my brain beacuse of its incapacity to function with my senses full of him. I wish he was my teddy bear every night...
I wish it could stay this way forever... But even if we do stay together,
State of HappinessSlipping into myself once more. Away from all the whispers and the swarms of people. Contemplating in silent suffering, I hide away without a word or even backward glance. What's a life with regrets? Many...many "if" questions.State of Happiness
On the exterior seemingly annoyed, angry and sad. These emotions are constantly a front. A consistant mask that seems right to have in place. Inside, it is all rot. Trying to juggle too many tasks and always having to start over too far along the sequence... Optomism is far; out of reach.
A smile might shatter the perfected facade for
False mourning, fake love V2.1Where the sunrise is digital, and emotion a check-box option.False mourning, fake love V2.1
They hide behind an IP address, disguised in forums, and chatrooms.
The air they breathe, toxic with HTML.
Their ultimate end, is they're false beginning.
The birds will chirp for them, on their fatal deletion day.
With eyes full of numbers, and a heart full of letters, you'll find a lonely being, find them caressing their keyboard, kissing their monitors.
As everyone whispers sweet remorse, through their computer speakers, as they bury the
Psychologically-correct Computers
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D4RK51D3
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D4RK51D3
Why don't you join the poetry contest from [link] ?
It's free and every nitwit such as myself who enters gets a small gift
but someone like you might win one of their $10 000 or $100 000 prizes.
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/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿̿'̿ ̿ (｡◕‿‿◕｡ ) ̿ ̿ ̿̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\
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umm.. yea.
98% of the teenage population does or has tried smoking pot. If you're one of the 2% who is gonna do it tonight for the first time, copy & paste this in your signature.
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!Will
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'Tis the time's plague when madmen lead the blind
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