And it is now that I can’t place what I was seeking
When the petals have been placed
Right before me
Waiting to be alloyed
Into a plant’s dream child
The one to be born of
deeper than the music of the world.
The smile is weary
And unsure of its own efficacy
While its lover faces it with a sparkle
Which holds mysteries of the sunny winter night.
Mysteries out of reach and obscure.
Wrapped in different layers of child’s clothing
Petals et all.
A moment or decade
And the newborn withers somewhat in the shadows of the day
Lying dormant with a penny in its mouth
Willing to buy time..
Wishing to buy a chilly summer night.
And now when the petals lay waiting
I juggle with words.
and i feel awful. horrible. like a porcupine trapped in the shell of a diseased human devoid of jhdfkjhakjfhkjhj i cant explain.
things are apparently so going my way.
WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU SO DIFFICULT ,GIRL? oh well i dont know.
but its not like im going to change anytime soon and that doesnt make things any better for me yes its none of your fault so you need not be tortured having to read all this and no it isnt obligatory you know. just go about your business why dontcha?
i cant open any blogpage for some reason although singing into blogger and all that can be done. so therefore i cant post comments or reply to them and blah and blah and what not :
and its HORRIBLE when you can see people thinking that you feel in a particular way for them when you most definately dont but you cant exactly make that clear you dont even know why.
im going to die a loner. im too used to it.
i WANT to die a loner. i want to DIE. yes you are all welcome to come and discuss how immature im being.heh, like anyone's reading anyway.