An open mouthed cigarette box speaks to me in low whispered words ( Read more... )

Sometimes I find myself staring past the relevance of it all. Staring into the distance of someone’s breath, someone’s voice. All the words somehow get into that mind of mine; I’ve begun to believe I am somewhat, in a sense, like a sponge. Absorbing all that is to absorb, even things I shouldn’t, or have absolutely no meaning to my life. I still ( Read more... )

My life is written on these pages; all in black and white ink. Black remains as the obvious- stains the paper, while I hope I’m not going to regret this. White are the thoughts you can’t read- they’re my thoughts, that are written here, but only I will understand their meaning or value ( Read more... )

One sunny night ( Read more... )

There’s a picture of you here ( Read more... )

Listening to the notes ( Read more... )

i'm in love with a male who hardly knows i exist. although we both seem to get lost in each other's retnas..the conversation is limited. and, I, myself, well. i conversate with the eyes far too often.

I used to wish I was like a tree; and could dance with the wind; watch the people passing; be still and strong. I thought that maybe with all those strengths I would find the depth within; or something would spark the depth rather. I thought maybe the wind would trigger my wounds, allowing my life to explode open with ideas. I realized that the ( Read more... )

There is a musician sitting about 15ft away from me. I have seen this one before; many times. Too many times to really count- several times for the past 3 or 4 summers. It is almost like he comes with the city. A guaranteed souvenir ( Read more... )

I'm on the bus - looking outside through these pee-stained windows. Winthrop is a beautiful place, with a lot of misery ( Read more... )