Is all but lost within her?

Her freedom’s never sung…

A voice within subtlety beckons

And tells her she’s the one…

Is all but lost within her?

In glass houses she resides…

She breaks her falls with panics

And must search further through the nights.

Commended by her friends,

And the winds pull on each day

When freedom’s heard in voices

Will she ( Read more... )

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against this song, i rock myself to sleep. but that doesnt interest you. you've never been in here before; where the lights are dimmed with a black sash, candles are left burning through the night (ironically it seems my only trust is placed in my appliances) so i may have the pervasive smell of rose water to wake me in the mornings; the pillows on ( Read more... )

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I have been at my throat for the past year, remembering you. How did I? Music, smell, cool air at night, november.. evoking memory. It's strange the way i came to discover that you can overwork your feelings and your memories. Contrary to popular belief, or perhaps i am just deceiving; I have not been nostalgic for us in months ( Read more... )

Out of place; i am feeling without a purpose ( Read more... )

                  
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I sat yesterday, in the chair of a church watching flashbacks of my friend's life. The pictures that flew across the screen represented some of her fondest memories. Many contained some of my closer friends in them- in stories that i've heard of and witnessed second hand; the joy that she's given these girls ( Read more... )

                           
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Sometimes you feel it the moment you walk outside, where the air that surrounds you calls out write write writewrite of me; dont miss anything. Ironically, with the commencement of ( Read more... )