everything is in softfocus

shes scared and frightened in some italian rock club, where the music is loud but her thoughts dont change. the keyboards are different, the fear is paranoia. maybe. maybe its justified. shes been drinking and somehow its easier this way. remember methods of communication she sorted for you. please. she cant stand no words. it hurts. it hurts. it

sometimes she wishes she didn't exist anymore. she thinks it would be easier for everyone that way.

you. you. didn't hear the tear drops hit the ground. i i i can't. can't. pull myself back from this.

( Read more... )

i feel so dead. i desperately don't want in on this. i don't want this lifestyle. so i'm alone in this house again, beating paint off the walls with my fists. letting the shower wash away the tears i cry, and then slip sliding down tiles. i'll turn the music up loud for company instead, run my fingers through my hair. my frame is bent, curled, ( Read more... )

there they stood, row upon row; some faded more than others; some so rusted they were almost unrecognisable. long lost recievers, empty in their communication now. isolated wires, still sparking for connections long since severed.

i woke with a start to the crash and bang of thunder. the clouds were falling over themselves to meet in the sky. they clashed and sparked and crumbled. i leant on the windowsill and my arms went numb. i was poised, breath held, waiting for the next illuminating fork followed by 'one onehundred, two onehundred' until the noise resonated throughout ( Read more... )

( and the sky was at peace x.x.x )

when moods come up like this, take pen to paper, fingers to keyboard.
i feeling like rhyming, and french, and hoping.

le ciel est trés belle, les étoiles luire ce nuit.