

Breathe MeOur chlorinated hair has been swept from our faces and we are thoroughly worn out from summer heat and running on black asphalt. We have finally grown tired and settle for Nirvana and napping on your NASCAR bed. Conversations about parents, a delicate issue comes up, and suddenly you are crying out, wailing your sorrows to God and me, so we both know where you stand. I pull you close to me, hoping maybe I can one to block out your pain from the people who live in the next room.Breathe Me
"Ouch I have lost myself agian."
I get into the car, practically steaming. All these supposedly mature adults can't hold a marria


June 2008I tell you to hold. To hold still.June 2008
To hold on. To hold onto my hand, because we are both scared.
The glistening plastic melted onto your bones
and the creased stitchings of your joints. The round blueblackgreen features buried in the dirt's sand. The aching heat melting your broken body.
MY youth: Put down the bottle.


4-28-08The rain hit the windshield like the opening credits of Star Wars: "In a galaxy far, far away..." My Civic is tearing away from you tonight.4-28-08
Away from the turning, turning, twisted way
that "real relationships work." Damn this time, Damn this place, Damn institutions, like marriage. Because we do it better then our parents, in their loveless beds, their lonely houses, I bet they have forgotten how to spoon. And damn this rain for beating so hard on my windshield. I can't get to that nameless place I'm headed, if I can't see the lines on the road.


On Losing LoveMoments like these are not poetic. They are not like the heartbreak movie of the year. They are not something you would write home to your mother about. It was gruesome in a heart strangling way. It won't stop beating without you, but it sure does make it harder to breathe.On Losing Love
We found each other in the dark,
and we are losing each other in the dark. You drew phrases on my back, when we layed in bed, of things you were never going to say.
Your scent is on my skin, my hair, dangling on my eyelashes, seeping into my soles.
You are in and aroun
Devious Comments
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"If looks could really kill, then my profession would be staring."
[link]
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CHECK OUT MY MUSIC Should be a gallery for Reflexive Art due the amount of the pretty ones Me
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EmmaHolton
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|stock|blog|prints|
thanks
.
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_51_
che calza a pennello...
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why do I never have the time to make things right, but always enough to make them twice?
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sorry for my english!
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*intao, ~comique, =Clementine98, *filledesetoiles
prints & signed prints
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Realize, sometimes I fall in love from a poem,
each language is its own passion
each syntax, a new religion,
and new words, a romance
I get lost in.
and no problem that picture is really neat
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everyone must make sacrifices to get what they want. i want to be happy, in order for me to be happy you must be sacrificed. that is a sacrifice i am willing to make
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www.petitescargot-photos.com
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