MusicI'm alive.
PrecisionEnticing, frowning lips. His expression never changes, sitting there.Precision
Toxic.
He is the autumn and winter, but never spring or summer.
His music,
Sings me, dances me, coaxes me from my mental grave.
Alas, I am an animated puppet on invisible strings.
MomYou scream at me with your mismatched socks expecting me to take you seriously.Mom
I giggle under my breath and now you know I think you're just being extremely silly.
You stand up and
storm off to another room taking off those ridiculous, ugly socks.
I watch them fly out the door, onto the floor stand up and pick them up.
They should probably be washed.
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"But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that, even though I do not know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. With all my heart, I love you."
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"Listen up, Simon. Don't forget. Believe in yourself. Not in you who believe in me. Not in me who believe in you. You should believe... you should believe in yourself!"
~Kamina
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visit my website [link]
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My Gallery- [link]
My MySpace: [link]
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"The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain." Lord Byron
COMMISSIONS: Please check my journal for commission opportunities.
:DD: we only have this moment!!!
...
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emerging from oblivion
a scream of light
a shiver of sound
just a whisper and a buckle
in the windowpane of time
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