Slow motion frozen and smiling attention ,fragile to the bitter end of a teardrop sentry .I admit to my faults and defeats in love.A ****** stranger looks my way ,one minute later led away to eyes of deceit that shelter my half filled measure of pleasure ,lost to a lifetime of treasure lost at sea,my sails abandoned and ship sunk so many times ,to the never ending self pity that sinks in hostile waters.The last wave is standing nearby calling me,winking goodbye.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 5:09 PM UTC
Handclaps, trapped, you are another clapped out hasbeen fading on the subtle regret of a haunted dancefloor,that echoes to a trapdoor of your reflection ,deep on a stained echo of a fatigued stand up romance fall at the feet of saints part time actors on shadows of downbeat sadness ,that chance meeting fall out from insight to quicksand that pours on a sinking fragrence of pitiful sadness and tide tiredness of desert slipstream and fragile happiness to upturned madness ,undressed to a ****** round of applause that maps teach us to follow to a statue frozen and silent .
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 4:22 PM UTC
Silence waving,afraid to shake and past reminders shiver at the edge of a heartbeat and a sunken teardrop in the maze of your mind,forgive and forget the only mistake, for one day you will shine with time and laugh at mime that flies in circles on cold lips that wait in hope of lips like sugar.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 4:04 PM UTC
Sing to the corduroy boy. He dances to joy and his toy a Jack Daniels on the rocks enjoy my corduroy boy.Afraid of self purpose and essence rings splendour ,damage goods in unlimited supply.Ping pong silence to vain seance and silence crawls through the void.A distant reminder of habit sings to the corduroy boy.Handsome and Head over heel on return to burn and sins frozen touch to a fragile altar,laugh ,cry my corduroy boy there seems nowhere to hide from the pretty last request of beating hearts under arrest and abandoned.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 3:54 PM UTC
Listen......The here and now, the wind speaks and shreiks in it's haunting lullaby,do you never wonder why , the sand and shells ask for mercy as the sea waves to the sky.I do not forget that moonlight ,that shines for us to regret that torquoise reminder of hidden footstep that crept to the stars and cry mercy for repeat and the lost sweet belief of grief.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 3:35 PM UTC
The P inside lifts to shallow pools of thirst and moving pictures.
P is purpose, personality car crashes to park the private Idaho.
A sign of the cross, will not stop P.
Prove it to the pin drop puncture of ****** on heat,
insecure to many tongues dripped in keroscene pantomine.
P is pretty. P is pop. P is pandamonium. P is plucky. P is pink.
Patter, panky, pips, puddle, paraquet, puncuation.
Property is theft Parker, pity, purity, punt, plunder, *****
Past, paint, pander, pringle, puppy, pesky, pest,
petrol, patrol, pamper, pastel, plunder, pongo, plip plop.
P.................
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 3:25 PM UTC
Where is that fragile sympathy,
tainted mortal cignet of self doubt,
and maze of relief that ignites this night of slow torture and flickering resistance to tremble knee deep in sleep,
but awake i stand guard over these feelings that slip side and sip anguish deep inside,
no shelter from the pain that then takes away the pity, the blame, the shame.
why do you only ever leave me when i just came.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 8:10 AM UTC
18 years.
Millions of tears.
Becoming a caricature of yourself.
Little boy blue, hiding inside a hollow tree
.It's because i care and the way i wave.
Personal taste and cut up the gender.
You were always more than tender.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 8:08 AM UTC
Still like a waters edge.
A sense of no sense and nonsense.
Puddle drunk, a nun to nothing and cross dressing monk.
You cannae hide, seek the tongues that speak.
A riddle of the weak, a bridge that saves both sides from falling away to a mountains edge,
the tiller, distiller lookalike Windy Miller,
converse, adverse no rhyme or reason to build a better will.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 8:07 AM UTC
Into your arms and hand in hand,
oh your love and fear was still life and calling through thirst and madness that played with sadness threw second hand cupid arrows blind though a state of vain vanity, a ride to torture.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 8:05 AM UTC