i cried writing this.

( If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world. )

she sings like the rain and walks like summer. she never stops, not even when she has ran out of songs to sing (she just makes new ones up). words doesn't mean anything, a la (curt and unfeeling) and doe (nimble steps to follow mr. la) and miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii (that sharp cry escaping from the depths of her lungs, exposed to all the world to ( Read more... )

 disoriented.

i like the way the word sounds, the way it rolls around in my mouth before leaving.

it reminds me of myself, right now.

except no, i’m not on a romantic tango with life. and i do not like it one bit, watching as life spins around me, as people come and go like bumper cars heading in all different directions.

we keep dancing around each ( Read more... )

i'm your ball of sunshine
and i shall endeavor to rid any dark clouds 
that cover your eyes and leave you in this darkness

we shall have connecting dreams 
of yellow-green tiles
and dancing in the kitchen.

when we wake up in the morning
your smile will tell me what i've already known 
and we'll sit, side by side 
basking in this silence

because the ( Read more... )