| (no subject) |
[Aug. 8th, 2007|08:07 pm] |
so long.
she reminded me that the past cannot be forgot,
and that sometimes
one has to take care of the loose ends.
besides, its not as much fun
to do this without you.
what happens when you take apart
for so long, so far,
can you remember the taste of sweetness
on a cloudy bitter day?
the sun is setting slowly
my golden hazed windowsill houses a dream.
i'm waiting for the moonlight
to take the time to miss you again.
~
dragonfell angel evolved. Levex Darastrix ~ www.draconicspires.com |
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| who. |
[Aug. 13th, 2006|04:55 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  confused | ] |
when everything stops and its just you and the moment.
ever have that boiling rage
when you see yourself screaming at someone
for something completely irrelivant to the current situation
and wondering why you're even screaming at them
because they have nothing to do with it?
like being trapped in a body you know is yours
but have no control over?
have you stopped yourself, wide-eyed to stutter an apology
and think what a fool you must look,
as you mutter "what came over me"
and then go spend some time looking in the mirror?
sometimes we are who we are.
but most of the time, i think, we don't have the slightest clue. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 8th, 2006|05:16 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  gloomy | ] |
i feel more and more detached each day.
when did i stop listening?
do you even care? |
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|
| new tattoo |
[Jul. 21st, 2006|11:08 am] |
the lesson i learned yesterday is that not all tattoos hurt equally. the back is much more sensitive than the arm or leg XD
i'm really happy with it thought, its on my right shoulderblade ^^ the tattoo artists, Wes of Wes Tattoos, did an excellent job of the colors and shading and his modification of my drawing is wonderful! gleee! |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 16th, 2006|04:32 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  chipper | ] |
a mention
the momentary need to speak and be heard.
do you hear me now?
where have you gone?
where do you stay?
why am i here?
why arn't we near?
touch.
I want you to answer this:
When you are afraid who do you think of?
When you are alone who do you think of?
When you are in pain who do you think of?
I know who I think of. And I am his forever.
Vows, made, celebrated. Connected by metal bands upon our fingers.
But its so much more than just that. |
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| Stoled from Greggeh Pants >_> |
[May. 10th, 2006|01:56 am] |
Leave your name and:
1. I'll respond with something random about you
2. I'll challenge you to try something
3. I'll pick a color that I associate with you
4. I'll tell you something I like about you
5. I'll tell you my first/clearest memory of you
6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of
7. I'll ask you something I've always wanted to ask you
8. If I do this for you, you must post this on yours |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 17th, 2006|02:36 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | accomplished | ] |
past upon past
i'm looking back and i see
so many faces left behind
faded dreams.
she remembers who you were
in a time squandered and bereft of meaning
that you were a feeling unto me
and that i cried to see you go.
do you remember?
touch upon touch
i'm reaching out to things i cannot touch again
wanting to try again
these things i've left behind.
she remembers what you were
in a place we tried to say was our own
that you had care for me
and that i hurt to see you go.
have you forgotten?
present and future
i'm walking a line and i hear the whisper
she reminds me of what was
but i fail to look back.
my hand is held by he who loves
and his hand is held in my own heart.
i have never forgotten you
i hope that you can find happiness too.
-
Dragonfell Angel ~ Moving on ~ |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 18th, 2006|07:37 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  cranky | ] |
upon the line,
i'm shifting through a passage
i've passed through before.
i recognise you,
as you go by watching me, watching the sky, watching the water.
its falling, tear drops from a grey cloud
we've forgotten what the sun looks like
down here,
we're waiting on something new to arrive
but its just the same old, same old.
its sad that we do this every year,
we say its going to get better.
she keeps telling me,
telling me.
windows are like lives
warm inside, cold outside,
transparent and breakable,
we can see through them,
and they watch us as we go by.
-
Dragonfell Angel - i oft wonder where i learned to dream |
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| escape |
[Mar. 8th, 2006|10:41 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  worried | ] |
i had to cross through the patch of woods behind the house, it was my turn to make sure the trail was clear,
then again it was always my turn, but it was a fun task anyways.
back in my little house of gold river, i came up and around the hill, looking through the sparse trees to the woods,
over my shoulder i could make out the wooden fence i built with my step-dad, ahead i could see cars slide past
on the quiet two way road down across the bridge. I curved around the length of the trail back to my house, the wide path
was covered in fresh vehicle tracks, strange because you cant take cars all the way through, without crashing
into the edies house anyways.
there was a twinge of horror at the amassment of about 60 people, a dozen or so vehicles lined along the back of our fence,
music playing on a stereo system, as people of all ages got high along the spine of my property. i hefted myself up the
fence and walked along the top, yelling at them to go away, "go away" i said "or i'll call the police". scoffs and laughs,
i watched a child, maybe 1-1 1/2 years old chew on a plastic ring, sitting upon the ground amind the legs of people
passing piles of white powder around on spoons. I wondered what mother could do that to her child, but i wondered more
what i would do to get them away from my house.
Hopping down back into my yard i ran across the grass wondering how a thin climable wooden fence built by a small family could
keep out the horde of them, i wondered where they all came from. up the back steps i skipped 2 by 2, to the sliding glass
door, pounding and yelling for mother to let me in. crying for her to call the police, but she'd get fred to do that
since he was a retired officer, it would be better that way. either way i didn't much care, we couldn't let them just
hang out back there, they all looked so awful.
in the front yard on a ride-mower, funny because our yard wasn't that big, fred said he didn't have the time to make the phonecall,
as i watched out my 2nd story bedroom window, the horde continued the degredation of their own humanity. and then through the trees
i could see the flashing lights, and the uniformed men and women breaking through the trees. People streamed around our property
like fast moving water around a stone, an island unto itself, as i ran out to the front to see the chaos unfold.
into our culdesac they were chased, with a queasy turn in my stomach i watched as the houses around turned into bleachers, all the
people living around sat in them watching as officers tried to catch the panicing convicted, using paper towel because they didn't
want to get their hands dirty. somewhere in the mess the officers disappeared and regular old neighborhood people stood in the
round field of our street, surrounded by stands of onlookers. They held revolvers up at the people they lived with
in this quiet little town, a nervous stand off. I ran between people, as an older woman cocked her weapon, pointing it at a girl,
maybe 12, in a mini skirt and a bikini top. Tears smeared the makeup upon the childs face, but she wouldn't back down.
that first shot went off, the girl stumbled backwards. A ragged hole in her arm that didn't bleed. She blinked dully and sat on
on the ground.
"nonono" i shouted at the woman, "how is killing them saving them, we can't kill them to save them" i cried.
but the chaos broke loose all around and i was left to wonder where it all went so horribly wrong.
I woke up crying, and rather confused. I'm still rather confused. A strange dream, nightmare, alarmed me.
I could only take guesses at what it means to me. Maybe it will mean something to some of you. |
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| why do you |
[Dec. 20th, 2005|06:54 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  angry | ] |
the question he asked
"why do you feel the way you do"
she said
"why do i feel the way i do?"
who feels the way they do with reason
do we feel the way we do
because of where we have been?
because of what we have seen,
and the faces that surround us?
because of the color of our skin,
and the opinions of those
that look us over,
inside and outside.
Maybe because of the school we went to,
was i taught to feel the way i feel
in response to what surrouds me
or is it because emotions are based
upon chemical reactions
in my brain?
tell me then,
why do you feel the way you feel?
did someone tell you to feel this way?
was it part of a game that you played
that you grew into,
and stick with even now?
is it because someone you loved died
or because you love someone and cannot tell them?
Do you feel the way you feel because of the outside
or because of whats inside
because you have to keep it hidden?
or because everyone knows.
why do i feel the way that i feel
is it because of my parents, that failed me,
my friend that left me,
my love that hurt me
my love that saved me?
is it because the sky is blue, the grass is green?
or because i think i shouldn't hurt?
is it because night and day revolve around the spinning of the earth
or because my world revolves around my hopes and dreams?
or is it because i have none?
why do you feel the way you feel?
a preprogrammed response based on humanity,
or a freelance reaction based on individualty?
maybe both at the same time
can you claim crossed signals cause you confusion?
why do i feel the way that i feel
is it because i wish it was i that fell instead of he?
because i wish i hadn't found someone to keep me here?
because i don't have the courage to run away?
because i can't take the pain of this sickly disease anymore
but there is no cure?
do i feel the way i feel
because someone says they love me,
or because people say they care
or because i know its true,
or because i think they lie?
i ask you then
why do you feel the way you feel,
is it because you live?
because you are alive?
because we take from life to make us ourselves
moulded out of what we make of our own experience
do you feel the way you feel because you grasped your life
or do you feel the way you feel
because you let someone grasp it for you. |
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