don't know whyi'm spitting these words outunwillingly, destructively.i force myself to do this 'cause i know that i canyet i've grown to hate it, to fear it.every blank page is scaryevery paragraph is terrible, and im-perfect.maybe they're just unloved.the sun greeted me that dayand i intended to say hi with a smile, buti looked around and all the snow was gone"the snow will come back" they told mebut my words couldn't wait, i said.i ran to my bedroomand when i took the pen and paperthey were gone. they were gone foreveri kept waiting, but the snow never came back.there's no such thing as "sense" in "feelings"there's no
just scaredi am lostbut i'm scared to be foundi'm scared there's nothing beautiful under my skinas they thoughti'm scared my thoughts aren't as poethicalas i thought, but insanei just want to feel the rain down my spinebut i don't want to be foundbeing lost in some way is better...because i'm scared of myself
matter of practiceI'm afraid the words will never be enough, I'm afraid all of this will go unheard. The paths are closing and the eyes are getting blind, all of them, little by little. I am shutting down.There's one thing I don't know, among all of the other things I ignore, this one is special, this is the one I'd die to know. I do wonder; why in the world we stop caring? Why we push ourselves apart and then cry yearning for someone to hold us. Why we became so distant. I see a thousand faces everyday, that if you count the t.v. and my dreams, and they all have learned so well how to fake a smile, I've tried to remember If I've ever seen someone cryi
great shot
and the image is perfect, i love the reflection of the lens!!