Tucoaz-Pirus

I want a man in him. Still. But that's nothing the heart can't take into it's gentle shaping hands of sandpaper. Rough, yet prepared to handle with care. Leaving minuscule scratches on the glass frame surrounding the orb of love, which has been freely given to him. Given to Stay. Once taken it can never be given back whole. From which the sell is derived. It desires to be accepted, not stolen. The short lived loves that exercise the hands give sell to one of the special designated. The joy that fills your spirit is with Stay. Until he gives back what he stole, or took he will keep that joy. If it's back and forward he may give it back. If no

When you sleep I dream of those days awake peering through the sleeping eyes I wish for a dream that dream that lasted through the beginning of my life. It has wasted away into the folds of time. A crevice in the book of yesterday If only that book could be read twice and the second time it is read you are able to perfect it. Cross out those lines of time you never want to revisit and add the things you dreamed about the next day. After the moment had been pushed into the void of your mind.

I live in a cerulean world under an iron sea. Pen and paper are my closest companions. Silence is my best friend, loneliness is my lover, and music is my soulmate. I eat, sleep and breath words.

Solace is knocking on my door. I don't want it. I won't let it in. I need to live this. I need to leave this. I need to make it through. Like the waves that roll to and from the shore, my pain comes and goes; with hatred and anger like the seafoam that manifests after the wave is gone. I have to make it through this trial with no cause. I have to make it through on my own. The beauty of your smile will not save my soul. It has to repair itself. Remember, you must love yourself before you can be loved. I will be more honest than I ever have: I can look in the mirror, into my own eyes and say with all sincerity "I do not look a

Enn hated planes. Her mother had always told her that when she was young she would scream her cords raw in response to her ears popping. She would have to go on a plane. 4 times within less that 2 weeks. She was far from prepared to face her fear of flying. Not even once. But like they say with pleasure comes pain, and to get to where she wanted to be Enn would have to woman up. She HAD to get away from "home" and life in general. As if it really could be called that. Enn knew that once she crossed that invisible border into a fleeting glimpse of freedom life for those glorious 10 days would be lived in a daze like a dream that she wished c

I got a road block like a motha fucka. It's the monster in me, that's what. That black can and drink that's pink like a sweetart, but kicks like a sweethart. Keeps my A in check with my D-squared.

It's a beautiful day. The day of the rising sun. The blue of the ocean pond cools. As she looks out from the citadel walls. She ponders her past and the premonitions of her future. The prophecy reads "The sun with light and the taste of the wave but like all the greats it'll burn out someday"