Cry with me and I'll retrace the teardrops falling down your face hold me close and I'll recieve the beauty that the heart believes. Spinning needle, help undress every carless word that fell from my lips and when those words lay threadbare on my hips youll see a picture of pristine hoplessness unless in that instance you give me jsut one kiss that will hold my heart far form familiar tears its been so long since ive tasted yoru lips and its all i wanted from life for every instant ive been searchign so logn for some meaning that wasnt connected to our embrace but everythign trickles back down to that moment where the world didnt exsist around us i still have your braclet clutched in my hand i still fall asleep with it entwined in my fingers and i can taste bitter blood on my longing lips theres somethign reflected in that small silver heart that will never tarnish or fade no matter the abuse i stand ill never forget your eyes framed by trendils of hair so bright in darkness that pierced me straight through and said this is what love is but love doesn't follow the engraved heart, glimmering eternally as if in mockery to sun-glazed dirty pink flesh carressing it so the silver is stained but only for a second and in that second is enough time to break a bond and with it, a heart, although never tainted but shimmers now with a hidden sadness reflecting an ice-cream cone of spreading fire... but our eyes, transfixed on the twinkling inferno, see not the flames, but the love behind them. and as i sit and think on this sight a thoght streaks across my mind how beautiful it woudl be not just to watch but also be ingulfed in the flames and weld that silver heart to our flesh the flame inside never died it was just locked in the cold depths deadend by hateful words we stabbed at eachother in the flickering candle light from 11 to 3 almost every night and although i often draw on personal allusions im sharing this one with you becase you are it i still miss sleepless nights thinking of you but was that where the passion lied would it be the same to see those eyes every passing moment i walk in the light or was it just that time in our lives when stars twinkled out that we needed eachother to dispel our doubts and if you asked me again id still tell you i rember that night when those eyes told me i love you
Cry with me and I'll retrace the teardrops falling down your face hold me close and I'll recieve the beauty that the heart believes. Spinning needle, help undress every carless word that fell from my lips and when those words lay threadbare on my hips youll see a picture of pristine hoplessness unless in that instance you give me jsut one kiss that will hold my heart far form familiar tears its been so long since ive tasted yoru lips and its all i wanted from life for every instant ive been searchign so logn for some meaning that wasnt connected to our embrace but everythign trickles back down to that moment where the world didnt exsist around us i still have your braclet clutched in my hand i still fall asleep with it entwined in my fingers and i can taste bitter blood on my longing lips theres somethign reflected in that small silver heart that will never tarnish or fade no matter the abuse i stand ill never forget your eyes framed by trendils of hair so bright in darkness that pierced me straight through and said this is what love is but love doesn't follow the engraved heart, glimmering eternally as if in mockery to sun-glazed dirty pink flesh carressing it so the silver is stained but only for a second and in that second is enough time to break a bond and with it, a heart, although never tainted but shimmers now with a hidden sadness reflecting an ice-cream cone of spreading fire... but our eyes, transfixed on the twinkling inferno, see not the flames, but the love behind them. and as i sit and think on this sight a thoght streaks across my mind how beautiful it woudl be not just to watch but also be ingulfed in the flames and weld that silver heart to our flesh the flame inside never died it was just locked in the cold depths deadend by hateful words we stabbed at eachother in the flickering candle light from 11 to 3 almost every night and although i often draw on personal allusions im sharing this one with you becase you are it i still miss sleepless nights thinking of you but was that where the passion lied would it be the same to see those eyes every passing moment i walk in the light or was it just that time in our lives when stars twinkled out that we needed eachother to dispel our doubts and if you asked me again id still tell you i rember that night when those eyes told me i love you but much love can those eyes hold, in the end? is it possible- for them to reach a point where they turn glassy and black from too much emotion? an overdose of love, a growing and dying addiction that just makes us jittery and paranoid yet thrilled in ecstacy worried that the sky will fall down and that we won't have enough room in our hands to catch it. it's just so easy to glide between memories, gentle, silky movement underneath a reoccuring dream but the ending never changes and the beginning still repeats cold mornings in the cold machine passing familiar scents and scenery, it's enough to make me long for our months together to rewind and be given one more chance but by the time the lazy sun falls back onto the earth and all that's left is hope for it's return my hope has buried itself 6 feet underground so that i could stand above it's ashes gazing at the sky, thinking "let it fall."
Cry with me and I'll retrace the teardrops falling down your face hold me close and I'll recieve the beauty that the heart believes. Spinning needle, help undress every carless word that fell from my lips and when those words lay threadbare on my hips youll see a picture of pristine hoplessness unless in that instance you give me jsut one kiss that will hold my heart far form familiar tears its been so long since ive tasted yoru lips and its all i wanted from life for every instant ive been searchign so logn for some meaning that wasnt connected to our embrace but everythign trickles back down to that moment where the world didnt exsist around us i still have your braclet clutched in my hand i still fall asleep with it entwined in my fingers and i can taste bitter blood on my longing lips theres somethign reflected in that small silver heart that will never tarnish or fade no matter the abuse i stand ill never forget your eyes framed by trendils of hair so bright in darkness that pierced me straight through and said this is what love is but love doesn't follow the engraved heart, glimmering eternally as if in mockery to sun-glazed dirty pink flesh carressing it so the silver is stained but only for a second and in that second is enough time to break a bond and with it, a heart, although never tainted but shimmers now with a hidden sadness reflecting an ice-cream cone of spreading fire... but our eyes, transfixed on the twinkling inferno, see not the flames, but the love behind them. and as i sit and think on this sight a thoght streaks across my mind how beautiful it woudl be not just to watch but also be ingulfed in the flames and weld that silver heart to our flesh the flame inside never died it was just locked in the cold depths deadend by hateful words we stabbed at eachother in the flickering candle light from 11 to 3 almost every night and although i often draw on personal allusions im sharing this one with you becase you are it i still miss sleepless nights thinking of you but was that where the passion lied would it be the same to see those eyes every passing moment i walk in the light or was it just that time in our lives when stars twinkled out that we needed eachother to dispel our doubts and if you asked me again id still tell you i rember that night when those eyes told me i love you but how much love can those eyes hold, in the end? is it possible- for them to reach a point where they turn glassy and black from too much emotion? an overdose of love, a growing and dying addiction that just makes us jittery and paranoid yet thrilled in ecstacy worried that the sky will fall down and that we won't have enough room in our hands to catch it. it's just so easy to glide between memories, gentle, silky movement underneath a reoccuring dream but the ending never changes and the beginning still repeats cold mornings in the cold machine passing familiar scents and scenery, it's enough to make me long for our months together to rewind and be given one more chance but by the time the lazy sun falls back onto the earth and all that's left is hope for it's return my hope has buried itself 6 feet underground so that i could stand above it's ashes gazing at the sky, thinking "let it fall." and balnket the truth i dont want to accept revist old lives again to relive what i wanted then but how long can my shell hold the tons wieghtless feelings are far and few i had them with you beside me but there was alwasy the polar opposite that hit me 3 in the morning staring at a computer screen "it was worth it," we said so many times but was it worth it to end in 7 months time could we have struggled up the tide and found the calm lagoon where we could idle in the foreboding sun and luagh off the worries it shone down but this is what revisting does raise questioins that burn in my mind
(i had to cut some because it said i exceeded the max char. length of 4300)sickness_andOctober 12 2004, 20:52:18 UTC
its been so long since ive tasted yoru lips and its all i wanted from life for every instant ive been searchign so logn for some meaning that wasnt connected to our embrace but everythign trickles back down to that moment where the world didnt exsist around us i still have your braclet clutched in my hand i still fall asleep with it entwined in my fingers and i can taste bitter blood on my longing lips theres somethign reflected in that small silver heart that will never tarnish or fade no matter the abuse i stand ill never forget your eyes framed by trendils of hair so bright in darkness that pierced me straight through and said this is what love is but love doesn't follow the engraved heart, glimmering eternally as if in mockery to sun-glazed dirty pink flesh carressing it so the silver is stained but only for a second and in that second is enough time to break a bond and with it, a heart, although never tainted but shimmers now with a hidden sadness reflecting an ice-cream cone of spreading fire... but our eyes, transfixed on the twinkling inferno, see not the flames, but the love behind them. and as i sit and think on this sight a thoght streaks across my mind how beautiful it woudl be not just to watch but also be ingulfed in the flames and weld that silver heart to our flesh the flame inside never died it was just locked in the cold depths deadend by hateful words we stabbed at eachother in the flickering candle light from 11 to 3 almost every night and although i often draw on personal allusions im sharing this one with you becase you are it i still miss sleepless nights thinking of you but was that where the passion lied would it be the same to see those eyes every passing moment i walk in the light or was it just that time in our lives when stars twinkled out that we needed eachother to dispel our doubts and if you asked me again id still tell you i rember that night when those eyes told me i love you but how much love can those eyes hold, in the end? is it possible- for them to reach a point where they turn glassy and black from too much emotion? an overdose of love, a growing and dying addiction that just makes us jittery and paranoid yet thrilled in ecstacy worried that the sky will fall down and that we won't have enough room in our hands to catch it. it's just so easy to glide between memories, gentle, silky movement underneath a reoccuring dream but the ending never changes and the beginning still repeats cold mornings in the cold machine passing familiar scents and scenery, it's enough to make me long for our months together to rewind and be given one more chance but by the time the lazy sun falls back onto the earth and all that's left is hope for it's return my hope has buried itself 6 feet underground so that i could stand above it's ashes gazing at the sky, thinking "let it fall." and balnket the truth i dont want to accept revist old lives again to relive what i wanted then but how long can my shell hold the tons wieghtless feelings are far and few i had them with you beside me but there was alwasy the polar opposite that hit me 3 in the morning staring at a computer screen "it was worth it," we said so many times but was it worth it to end in 7 months time could we have struggled up the tide and found the calm lagoon where we could idle in the foreboding sun and luagh off the worries it shone down but this is what revisting does raise questioins that burn in my mind, more fuel to add to the flames that kiss our palms as they get closer yet, hearts on fire spread to red on our lips fire burns fire, but can it burn out? passion by the centimeter hindered by barriers that we built for 7 months and the construction never ceases cowered in the corner to escape the cremation of our sun desperate attempts to repair incessant problems for 5 or 6 hours painful side-effects to a romantic distance and a californian christmas in the rain where two lovers once stood outside of a lonely house full of coughing and the monotone blue on the television screen lips on lips and two parts of the same heart and nothing else mattered but their small boat as they were alone in the sea.
Re: (i had to cut some because it said i exceeded the max char. length of 4300)normalpeoplesukOctober 14 2004, 17:41:09 UTC
i want to add more.. i have more ideas.. but those ending words jstu seem so fitting and perfect adn personal and free of bullcrap allusions and hyperboles jsut straight tryth straight feelings and the small intracacies of what we had and the purest memories
i think if we want ot do this again well haev to start a new poem and i think we should i enjoyed this
the teardrops falling down your face
hold me close and I'll recieve
the beauty that the heart believes.
Spinning needle, help undress
every carless word that fell from my lips
and when those words lay threadbare on my hips
youll see a picture of pristine hoplessness
unless in that instance you give me jsut one kiss
that will hold my heart far form familiar tears
its been so long since ive tasted yoru lips
and its all i wanted from life for every instant
ive been searchign so logn for some meaning
that wasnt connected to our embrace
but everythign trickles back down to that moment
where the world didnt exsist around us
i still have your braclet clutched in my hand
i still fall asleep with it entwined in my fingers
and i can taste bitter blood on my longing lips
theres somethign reflected in that small silver heart
that will never tarnish or fade no matter the abuse i stand
ill never forget your eyes framed by trendils of hair
so bright in darkness that pierced me straight through
and said this is what love is
but love doesn't follow the engraved heart,
glimmering eternally as if in mockery to
sun-glazed dirty pink flesh
carressing it so the silver is stained
but only for a second
and in that second is enough time to break a bond
and with it, a heart, although never tainted
but shimmers now with a hidden sadness
reflecting an ice-cream cone of spreading fire...
but our eyes, transfixed on the twinkling inferno,
see not the flames, but the love behind them.
and as i sit and think on this sight
a thoght streaks across my mind
how beautiful it woudl be not just to watch
but also be ingulfed in the flames
and weld that silver heart to our flesh
the flame inside never died
it was just locked in the cold depths
deadend by hateful words we stabbed at eachother
in the flickering candle light
from 11 to 3 almost every night
and although i often draw on personal allusions
im sharing this one with you becase you are it
i still miss sleepless nights thinking of you
but was that where the passion lied
would it be the same to see those eyes
every passing moment i walk in the light
or was it just that time in our lives
when stars twinkled out
that we needed eachother to dispel our doubts
and if you asked me again id still tell you
i rember that night when those eyes told me i love you
Reply
the teardrops falling down your face
hold me close and I'll recieve
the beauty that the heart believes.
Spinning needle, help undress
every carless word that fell from my lips
and when those words lay threadbare on my hips
youll see a picture of pristine hoplessness
unless in that instance you give me jsut one kiss
that will hold my heart far form familiar tears
its been so long since ive tasted yoru lips
and its all i wanted from life for every instant
ive been searchign so logn for some meaning
that wasnt connected to our embrace
but everythign trickles back down to that moment
where the world didnt exsist around us
i still have your braclet clutched in my hand
i still fall asleep with it entwined in my fingers
and i can taste bitter blood on my longing lips
theres somethign reflected in that small silver heart
that will never tarnish or fade no matter the abuse i stand
ill never forget your eyes framed by trendils of hair
so bright in darkness that pierced me straight through
and said this is what love is
but love doesn't follow the engraved heart,
glimmering eternally as if in mockery to
sun-glazed dirty pink flesh
carressing it so the silver is stained
but only for a second
and in that second is enough time to break a bond
and with it, a heart, although never tainted
but shimmers now with a hidden sadness
reflecting an ice-cream cone of spreading fire...
but our eyes, transfixed on the twinkling inferno,
see not the flames, but the love behind them.
and as i sit and think on this sight
a thoght streaks across my mind
how beautiful it woudl be not just to watch
but also be ingulfed in the flames
and weld that silver heart to our flesh
the flame inside never died
it was just locked in the cold depths
deadend by hateful words we stabbed at eachother
in the flickering candle light
from 11 to 3 almost every night
and although i often draw on personal allusions
im sharing this one with you becase you are it
i still miss sleepless nights thinking of you
but was that where the passion lied
would it be the same to see those eyes
every passing moment i walk in the light
or was it just that time in our lives
when stars twinkled out
that we needed eachother to dispel our doubts
and if you asked me again id still tell you
i rember that night when those eyes told me i love you
but much love can those eyes hold, in the end?
is it possible- for them to reach a point
where they turn glassy and black from too much emotion?
an overdose of love,
a growing and dying addiction
that just makes us jittery and paranoid
yet thrilled in ecstacy
worried that the sky will fall down
and that we won't have enough room in our hands to catch it.
it's just so easy to glide between memories,
gentle, silky movement underneath a reoccuring dream
but the ending never changes
and the beginning still repeats
cold mornings in the cold machine
passing familiar scents and scenery,
it's enough to make me long for our months together
to rewind and be given one more chance
but by the time the lazy sun falls back onto the earth
and all that's left is hope for it's return
my hope has buried itself 6 feet underground
so that i could stand above it's ashes
gazing at the sky, thinking "let it fall."
Reply
the teardrops falling down your face
hold me close and I'll recieve
the beauty that the heart believes.
Spinning needle, help undress
every carless word that fell from my lips
and when those words lay threadbare on my hips
youll see a picture of pristine hoplessness
unless in that instance you give me jsut one kiss
that will hold my heart far form familiar tears
its been so long since ive tasted yoru lips
and its all i wanted from life for every instant
ive been searchign so logn for some meaning
that wasnt connected to our embrace
but everythign trickles back down to that moment
where the world didnt exsist around us
i still have your braclet clutched in my hand
i still fall asleep with it entwined in my fingers
and i can taste bitter blood on my longing lips
theres somethign reflected in that small silver heart
that will never tarnish or fade no matter the abuse i stand
ill never forget your eyes framed by trendils of hair
so bright in darkness that pierced me straight through
and said this is what love is
but love doesn't follow the engraved heart,
glimmering eternally as if in mockery to
sun-glazed dirty pink flesh
carressing it so the silver is stained
but only for a second
and in that second is enough time to break a bond
and with it, a heart, although never tainted
but shimmers now with a hidden sadness
reflecting an ice-cream cone of spreading fire...
but our eyes, transfixed on the twinkling inferno,
see not the flames, but the love behind them.
and as i sit and think on this sight
a thoght streaks across my mind
how beautiful it woudl be not just to watch
but also be ingulfed in the flames
and weld that silver heart to our flesh
the flame inside never died
it was just locked in the cold depths
deadend by hateful words we stabbed at eachother
in the flickering candle light
from 11 to 3 almost every night
and although i often draw on personal allusions
im sharing this one with you becase you are it
i still miss sleepless nights thinking of you
but was that where the passion lied
would it be the same to see those eyes
every passing moment i walk in the light
or was it just that time in our lives
when stars twinkled out
that we needed eachother to dispel our doubts
and if you asked me again id still tell you
i rember that night when those eyes told me i love you
but how much love can those eyes hold, in the end?
is it possible- for them to reach a point
where they turn glassy and black from too much emotion?
an overdose of love,
a growing and dying addiction
that just makes us jittery and paranoid
yet thrilled in ecstacy
worried that the sky will fall down
and that we won't have enough room in our hands to catch it.
it's just so easy to glide between memories,
gentle, silky movement underneath a reoccuring dream
but the ending never changes
and the beginning still repeats
cold mornings in the cold machine
passing familiar scents and scenery,
it's enough to make me long for our months together
to rewind and be given one more chance
but by the time the lazy sun falls back onto the earth
and all that's left is hope for it's return
my hope has buried itself 6 feet underground
so that i could stand above it's ashes
gazing at the sky, thinking "let it fall."
and balnket the truth i dont want to accept
revist old lives again to relive what i wanted then
but how long can my shell hold the tons
wieghtless feelings are far and few
i had them with you beside me
but there was alwasy the polar opposite
that hit me 3 in the morning staring at a computer screen
"it was worth it," we said so many times
but was it worth it to end in 7 months time
could we have struggled up the tide
and found the calm lagoon
where we could idle in the foreboding sun
and luagh off the worries it shone down
but this is what revisting does
raise questioins that burn in my mind
Reply
and its all i wanted from life for every instant
ive been searchign so logn for some meaning
that wasnt connected to our embrace
but everythign trickles back down to that moment
where the world didnt exsist around us
i still have your braclet clutched in my hand
i still fall asleep with it entwined in my fingers
and i can taste bitter blood on my longing lips
theres somethign reflected in that small silver heart
that will never tarnish or fade no matter the abuse i stand
ill never forget your eyes framed by trendils of hair
so bright in darkness that pierced me straight through
and said this is what love is
but love doesn't follow the engraved heart,
glimmering eternally as if in mockery to
sun-glazed dirty pink flesh
carressing it so the silver is stained
but only for a second
and in that second is enough time to break a bond
and with it, a heart, although never tainted
but shimmers now with a hidden sadness
reflecting an ice-cream cone of spreading fire...
but our eyes, transfixed on the twinkling inferno,
see not the flames, but the love behind them.
and as i sit and think on this sight
a thoght streaks across my mind
how beautiful it woudl be not just to watch
but also be ingulfed in the flames
and weld that silver heart to our flesh
the flame inside never died
it was just locked in the cold depths
deadend by hateful words we stabbed at eachother
in the flickering candle light
from 11 to 3 almost every night
and although i often draw on personal allusions
im sharing this one with you becase you are it
i still miss sleepless nights thinking of you
but was that where the passion lied
would it be the same to see those eyes
every passing moment i walk in the light
or was it just that time in our lives
when stars twinkled out
that we needed eachother to dispel our doubts
and if you asked me again id still tell you
i rember that night when those eyes told me i love you
but how much love can those eyes hold, in the end?
is it possible- for them to reach a point
where they turn glassy and black from too much emotion?
an overdose of love,
a growing and dying addiction
that just makes us jittery and paranoid
yet thrilled in ecstacy
worried that the sky will fall down
and that we won't have enough room in our hands to catch it.
it's just so easy to glide between memories,
gentle, silky movement underneath a reoccuring dream
but the ending never changes
and the beginning still repeats
cold mornings in the cold machine
passing familiar scents and scenery,
it's enough to make me long for our months together
to rewind and be given one more chance
but by the time the lazy sun falls back onto the earth
and all that's left is hope for it's return
my hope has buried itself 6 feet underground
so that i could stand above it's ashes
gazing at the sky, thinking "let it fall."
and balnket the truth i dont want to accept
revist old lives again to relive what i wanted then
but how long can my shell hold the tons
wieghtless feelings are far and few
i had them with you beside me
but there was alwasy the polar opposite
that hit me 3 in the morning staring at a computer screen
"it was worth it," we said so many times
but was it worth it to end in 7 months time
could we have struggled up the tide
and found the calm lagoon
where we could idle in the foreboding sun
and luagh off the worries it shone down
but this is what revisting does
raise questioins that burn in my mind,
more fuel to add to the flames
that kiss our palms as they get closer yet,
hearts on fire spread to red on our lips
fire burns fire, but can it burn out?
passion by the centimeter hindered by barriers
that we built for 7 months and the construction never ceases
cowered in the corner to escape the cremation of our sun
desperate attempts to repair incessant problems for 5 or 6 hours
painful side-effects to a romantic distance
and a californian christmas in the rain
where two lovers once stood outside of a lonely house
full of coughing and the monotone blue on the television screen
lips on lips and two parts of the same heart
and nothing else mattered but their small boat
as they were alone in the sea.
Reply
i think if we want ot do this again well haev to start a new poem and i think we should i enjoyed this
thank you leena
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment