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seeya later!! it's been fun!! (or close to it
Bye, guys (and gals)
Eeeebs xoxo


Butterfly SummerI wrinkle my noseButterfly Summer
The grass is scratchy, Daddy
I know, we're almost there, one more hill
Where are we going? Are we there yet?
No, love, but just wait
My Wellingtons pad along softly on the ground
And the sharp scent of slightly wet earth fills my nostrils
Yes, it surely is the Butterfly Summer,
The time of year when they come to rest in the old pine trees near the cliffs
We reach the top of our hill, which slopes downwards, and we lie down and roll to the bottom,
Laughing and smiling, my honey curls full of sand &


Should I...This Is where the story begins The river ends My tears fall For the soldiers whose blood Runs down the steps and palace walls Who were they? Do we even care? No Because they were just men, Keepers of the peace, Murderers in mass numbers, Heroes, Villains Our blood Our plague And so As I sit where the rivers ends And fill it with the tears of comrades who will never come home I wonder And ask myself, Should that have been me?Should I...


WhalerStick me.Whaler
Spear me with those long metal rods you call harpoons
and watch in glee as I thrash,
heaving my last breath from my lungs,
spewing reverberating screams.
Laugh amongst yourselves
as you sit on your floating meat factories,
contemplating
the best way to peel my flesh from my ever-so-malleable white bones,
your guts wrenching as my slow-beating heart is exposed to the sound of a million pieces of paper ripping.
You live for that sound, I know.
And as you shear me of my skin, and take me apart,


SizzleYou Are like a sunburn Just sitting there, making me itch Making me blisterSizzle
Oh, shit, Lost my inspiration Looking at you for too long Now I’m Burnt
Your calm gaze Usually wouldn’t make others squirm and smolder In the hot summer heat But you set my skin ablaze And I can’t tell that I’ve been burnt Till I look in the mirror
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Passion
is in all great searches and is necessary
to all creative endeavors.
Visit ArtWanted.com!
•·.
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We are the music makers, we are the dreamers of dreams.
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Dying is an art. - Sylvia Plath
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Do you still believe in stars?
*tangledseaweed ~ art / photos
i think ill ruin my study hall do do a kiriban for my dear da palz.... marg n' gretchy? k?
should i do a 96th kiriban...??
i think i'll ruin my study hall hours to do so...... *shhh!!*
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sorry I'm soooo slow about posting......
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