martha roemeryou can't always be there holding my handmartha roemer
but sometimes i can still smell you on me
i love you.
are we there yet?you can also count on me to understand that "you can't make it" or "sorry dude, i'm busy, maybe another time?"are we there yet?
it may not have meant much to you. but it broke my heart.
new scars. new beginnings. broken promises that never go out of style.
lust.i lust for you. i lust for your eyes. i lust for your body. i lust for your trust. i lust for everythinglust.
that you incase
inside that pristine work shirt and
those pristine work pants everyday.
i want you to dominate me. i want you to break me. i want you to want me. i want you to love me.
i need you to know. i need you to see. i need you to be. i need you to be mine.
i am yours. i am a wreck. i am yours on the table. i am a wreck. for you. on the table.
A New Day RisesSinking into the endless ocean of nightA New Day Rises
Suffocating ever more by intangible despair Chilled by voices carried on the fell wind Like guilty whispers giving away the darkest of secrets So freely given So ready for consumption
Taken in for all there worth
Turning despair and fear into mere whispers among the others Uttering their own secrets of the fragmented puzzle Yet slowly piece-by-piece it all falls together
Like a tapestry of intricate design Causing awareness to dawn like the dawning of the sunrise A new beginning
Leading to a new end
Old gods usurpe
| honestly. whenever i scowl, my face drains of blood and i mutter fervently, it probably means that i'm analyzing Shostakovitch under my breath. so don't be bothered. |
English.
Neutral
I must say...your ideas a quite original.
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Rock and Roll.
hah,i like your journal
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