Far From That Broken HomeI have been sitting here Trying to write a letter to an old friend I stared at his name and the blinking cursor I was so right and so wrongFar From That Broken Home
Thoughts flood in Closeness, yes that is gone I feel good knowing that
This is my reality and I’m living through it I’m not fighting myself anymore
I can listen to that song and hear nothing but lyrics There isn’t any panic left in my chest
I met someone new I should tell him That someone is me I know my limits My strengths My weaknesses
I won’t finish this letter I’m writing
Dear Friend:Dear Friend: Can you remember those long nights, giving away our deepest secrets to one another? Do you remember what I smell like, how my face looks when I sleep, or just exactly how my lips curl up in a real smile? I hope part of "you" still exist. I am still here and I always will be. I replay lying under the stars with you on those cool summer nights with music echoing in our heads. Let us be childish again under the trees. I walk through this lonely house and see us sitting together here and there. I pick up my little journal and start us over from the beginning and try to write a "happy ending" in my mind. When it rainDear Friend:
Washing Dishes to Wash DishesLiving in the past It won't last Being here; in the present Is where I scream, laugh and vent Concentrating on myself And my very own mental health Completely relaxed Allows me to end the act It's over; I'm in the moment I was gone; no one knows where I went I'm not a new person I've just pulled away the curtainWashing Dishes to Wash Dishes
the sun is coming can you feel it?
--
Life sucks, I know. I just say it in a much more eloquent way
--
Control is something we all fight for, no matter whether or not we want to admit it to each other or ourselves. It is the demon that haunts us all. It falls into suite with “one wants what one can’t have”.
--
I'm such a whore...
Giggity Giggity...
--
Control is something we all fight for, no matter whether or not we want to admit it to each other or ourselves. It is the demon that haunts us all. It falls into suite with “one wants what one can’t have”.
--
A mind laid open is not a mind of vulnerability; exposed to the cold, but instead one blanketed in creativity and comforted by the excuse.
-Alley
--
A mind laid open is not a mind of vulnerability; exposed to the cold, but instead one blanketed in creativity and comforted by the excuse.
-Alley
--
[link]
Previous Page12Next Page