"this is my purple coat..."
I love Mayme.
She makes me laugh. And then laugh about why I'm laughing.
!HEY! you guys wanna read the second draft of my Song of Myself? Well, if you don't, too bad!
My heartbeat
hints that
I am alone.
And I
whisper, scream,
whatever it takes to be heard over the drumming of
where they tell me my heart is.
The air is filled with foggy absolution.
Crystals that spark and flicker,
a dizzying metaphor in lieu of forgiveness.
One day I will collect these words like charms to wear around my neck,
and look into the eyes of what I wish I could be.
Fading nostalgia of what never was.
I think
I believe in monsters,
but it is becoming more and more evident
all these ghosts and demons are me.
Inching closer with each single,
complete
pulsation of the heart.
And no one can take them away.
My throat is hoarse from the smoke of
my words,
This wind burns my eyes,
ragged with memories.
It can not take from me what I have seen,
and in this instant,
I feel safe.
This,
a distant echo of all I have ever known,
all of this.
I may not be able to control this cyclone of disillusionment,
yet
In it is the discovery of dry eyes and blissful thoughts,
this archaeology of my heartbeat.
I'm reading up more about the heart to figure out exactly what I want to say....
Let me know what you think, I really need feedback.
She makes me laugh. And then laugh about why I'm laughing.
!HEY! you guys wanna read the second draft of my Song of Myself? Well, if you don't, too bad!
My heartbeat
hints that
I am alone.
And I
whisper, scream,
whatever it takes to be heard over the drumming of
where they tell me my heart is.
The air is filled with foggy absolution.
Crystals that spark and flicker,
a dizzying metaphor in lieu of forgiveness.
One day I will collect these words like charms to wear around my neck,
and look into the eyes of what I wish I could be.
Fading nostalgia of what never was.
I think
I believe in monsters,
but it is becoming more and more evident
all these ghosts and demons are me.
Inching closer with each single,
complete
pulsation of the heart.
And no one can take them away.
My throat is hoarse from the smoke of
my words,
This wind burns my eyes,
ragged with memories.
It can not take from me what I have seen,
and in this instant,
I feel safe.
This,
a distant echo of all I have ever known,
all of this.
I may not be able to control this cyclone of disillusionment,
yet
In it is the discovery of dry eyes and blissful thoughts,
this archaeology of my heartbeat.
I'm reading up more about the heart to figure out exactly what I want to say....
Let me know what you think, I really need feedback.