

My Little LoveOh, how I envy you. How delicious life must taste on your tongue. Exotic and free, always full of young excitement. You bring me more life and joy than you know.My Little Love
I am so jealous of your careless feeling, how boldly you will give out your heart to anything and everything that moves you. In your eyes I see the dancing fire of such a burning passion I did not know could exist in a single pure, loving soul. For this I am always tempted to keep you safe as my own treasure. If I could be selfish I would not share your radiant beauty with the world, I am so afraid they might loose you, or smother the sparkle in your eyes. It would kill me. I&


Strings and SeamsHere I lay, drowning in a pool of my own blood, My body ripped apart at the seams. Ive been held up by strings, a dancing puppet Smiling and laughing as I fall to pieces. They look on this scene and see nothing, nothing But what they expect, what I project.Strings and Seams
As such is the nature of smoke screens and masks, Eventually the disquise will fail. My lies become weak and frail, and I am trapped Like a spider, caught in her own web. Caged in glass, you finally see as this skin is torn And I lay broken on the floor of Scarlette.
All is quiet as darkness prevails, &nb


Claustrophobia of LifeAt times it seems like I stopped breathing because when I finally take a conscious breath it feels like a desperate attempt at revivalClaustrophobia of Life
Sometimes gravity is so solid its weighted presence smothers me I find myself unable to move
The sky presses down on me with the force of a magnet to grass Im trapped between the clouds and the ground The sweet clear air turns hard and cold growing fingers of ice wrapped around my neck I can hardly steal a single breath
~@~
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"Człowiek kij z lasu"
--
"Don't take life too seriously, you never make it out alive"
--
"These are the pale deaths
which men miscall their lives:
for all the scents of green things growing,
each breath is but an exhalation of the grave.
Bodies jerk like puppet corpses,
and hell walks laughing"
Stephen R. Donaldson
--
'...gdzie jedno się kończy, a drugie zaczyna.' <3
--
"These are the pale deaths
which men miscall their lives:
for all the scents of green things growing,
each breath is but an exhalation of the grave.
Bodies jerk like puppet corpses,
and hell walks laughing"
Stephen R. Donaldson
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