That's Just MeI’m a little too busy I’m a little too late I’m a little out of sorts That’s just meThat's Just Me
I’m a little too short I’m a little too fat I’m a little bit stressed That’s just me
I’m a little too quiet I’m a little too something But that’s not what you need That’s just me
Let It PassPrecious time keeps passing by O! How the days seem to fly The bitter cold melts away Drip, drip, dripping--time swaysLet It Pass
A little tick, a little tock The beats of a monotonous clock The heat melts away the day Drip, drip, dripping--time sways
Time doesn't wait for you or me It's is what it wants to be There is nothing you can do To make it change...
Just let it pass.
UntitledWhen my eyes close and I’m at rest When I’m smiling and happy and at my best When I think that I’ll be alone foreverUntitled
You kiss my closed eyes and make everything better
My sky, my moon, my stars You are everything to me You always are
Like HerIf I dressed down And stopped acting tough If I let my hair grow long Would that be enough?Like Her
If I changed my name And changed my style Would I still be the same As the girl you don't see?
Would you love me If I was more like her? What do I have to do To make you love me?
If I changed my voice And let people in If I forgot who I am Would that be a sin?
If I painted my nails And wasn't so shy If I smiled more often Would see the sparkle in my eye?
Would you love me If I was more like her
22.01.08The mosquito sat on his arm. He watched it stab its sharp proboscis into his flesh, like a straw perennially attached. There wasn’t a sound -- not a twitch -- as man and bug stood intravenously bound: blood brothers. As the tiny insect continued her feast, a lone neuron fired somewhere back in the depths of the man’s mind: she would have to be a blood sister. He gazed at his slight sister; she would make hundreds of minute eggs with some big clumsy male. She would also use his blood. Was he, to her, just a big clumsy male? The first relationship?22.01.08
VR I21.01.08She stirs in the corner between a dumpster and a piss stained wall, rocking and shaking. From the way she is mumbling and convulsing you might think that she is high. She may very well be. Her hair is thick and matted, grimy enough to make discerning a colour impossible. She could be any girl you’ve ever met, and you wouldn’t know it.21.01.08
You would not be the first to walk by her; you won’t be the last -- unless maybe you can save her.
As you get closer you may catch her scent: like an old book but more living smells and much dirtier. Her e
20.01.08three little words that you will never say; you couldn't say even if you wanted to.20.01.08
dripping like blood but not from your tongue, for you
have never spoken
those simple syllables.
have you heard them? i have not, but i can say them to you. i can speak those haunting little words.
i can lie.
Doodle Deedle Doodle.
Sociable
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*007-WriteOff - Not such a crazy idea after all.
Beware The Scent of Elderberries!
The Most Shagadelic Writing Club Around.
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