It's not the ten feet high figure
staring at the stars
i see standing in my yard
that i'm worried about
Nor is it the humanoid
screaming about yesteryear
i hear dancing in my kitchen
that i fear so much
It are the two lonely eyes
staring through my back
i feel peeking from the door
that chill me to the bone
sometimes
when you look into her eyes
even without her looking back
it's like
the world suddenly...
it just
dissapears
and all that's left
is her mischievous smile
and when she bites her lip
and again those eyes
it doesn't matter what she's thinking of
it's just so cute
and she doesn't realise how cute she is
how cute she can be
and sometimes
when she's sad
when she's crying
the world leaves you again
and you stand there
trying to do everything you can
just to bring that smile back
anything
just to get it back
just
to get that smile back
I have a hole in my chest, right where my heart should be.
And when i get sad i light a candle
and fill the hole with wax
trying to believe i'm human
I have a hole in my chest, right where my heart should be.
And when i get lonely i take a needle and some thread
and sow the hole shut
trying to forget i'm human
I have a hole in my chest, right where my heart should be.
And when i think of you i take a knife
and fill the hole with blood
maybe, just maybe i have a heart
and maybe, just maybe you broke it still
but the blood stays in the hole
no gaps, no cracks, nothing to seep through
it just stays
in the hole
waiting
for you
A man with no heart can kill who he wants
A man with no heart will kill who he can
But he'll never smell the roses
Cause he will kill himself
And he'll be shackled to his coffin
And he'll be shackled to his grave
And he'll never smell the roses
Cause he's shackled to himself
Marianna. It came out like a mournful note, like the wind soughing against the bare willow-branches beside frozen river floodlands, changed to playing fields, changed to part of the river in March and April. I looked at him and he looked like me, and my name burst from my lips again, watery, waterfall, wind falling through falling leaves. My name is Marianna. He smiled, a wind-smile, a crooked smile, bent tree-branch like and wavering like the willow wand.
Im Chris, he said. Chris, solid, the heart-wood of an oak, its brown leaves and branches pointing to the sky. It would take all the Renais
Current Residence: Baaargh Favourite style of art: Emoting Operating System: Windows :Vista MP3 player of choice: Mah iPod NaNOEZ! Wallpaper of choice: Swirly patterns ;3 Skin of choice: Slightly tanned Personal Quote: GRAH!
Hokay soh!
I'm gonna be in ma exams from 6/12 until 18/12... So if you want me to make stuff, now is the time! I'll be having half days to "study" for the next exam, and since ill be alone most of the time, (not being supervised but kept out of range of knives, lighters, possible victims and dangerous chemicals,) ill be glad to do anything for anyone... And some surprises for some people...
And i want this journal to be longer so gief things to rant about, thats always fun... hating stuff...
*gets distracted by shiny knief (yus, meant to type like that!)*
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!
Hokay, soh!
Looks like people can still overestimate things.
Many of you might (or maybe not) have heard about this, but still, i'ld like you to support this.
It's to help a fellow deviantArtist (a GD even) in her fight against MS.
Details found in the comment:
http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/42734284/
The youngest thing on here is a year old D: And poems aren't that hard, you just need to be able to convert emotions into words, or be able to let everything go as you type or type random stuff and pay people to say it's art so people will get deceived and pay you... Still, i'ld pick drawan over writan any day ;D