but,
then you
grabbed my waist
to yours
and entangled me
in that
unsatisfied hunger
that i wish
you didn't need.

Clenched jaw.
Tense body.
I am chained to a dream
That travels into my memory.

The ashes in the closet
They speak to me in a child's voice
Innocent and silvery voice.
They are calling me to listen.

Listen to her story.
The rush of greys grab
My hears from her tales.
And my body tightens.

Not only am I bound,
But so is the metallic voice
In the closet that begs
Through joyful salutations.

My bowels ache and visage
Will cringe with pain.
Set me free!
My body will not budge.

Tighter and tighter wound
Is the web shining web
Cast in the same chain
As her ashes in the closet.

Still glowing is the silver light
Upon my bedroom table.
It begs me to follow and To free.

. ~I just wanna touch the sky--to grab the stars that dot your eyes.A shooting star's light tends to diminish,but I thought of you todayfor twenty two minutes.~.

rafferty and riley decided they would fishand go down to the river to catch a tasty dish. sat there with there rods and a sandwich tinwhen riley got a bite and the fish had pulled  him inrafferty  went to help but on the bank he slipped then poor rafferty in the water dippedthey were soaking wet and clambered to the shoreand neither one of them went fishing anymore

A true writer never dies
whether in his truth or in his lies
Whether melancholy or blithe

His words will speak perpetually
through a reader's eyes
Each word ascends from the pages gracefully
And there is no need for goodbyes

With his readers now breathing his breath
in his dying, there is no death

I am a son and a brother.
I am an enemy and a friend.
I am a fighter and a lover.
I am a means to an end.
I am honest-
But still I lie.
I am a joker and I jest.
But tears still fall from my eyes.
I am kind and I care.
I am cold and heartless.
I am just and fair.
I am Sparticus.
I am everybody and everything.
I am nobody and nothing.

This is meant to be for my english task of writing a sonnet- i don't think it is but i thought i would upload it anyway.
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The boy with black hair is looking at me,
Reminding me of an old memory,
He does not know it and he does not care,
That if he carries on my heart will tear.

I have not seen him for a year,
Every night I wiped a tear,
I was not angry, nor upset,
Just ashamed that I let

That boy with his arrogance and sweet word,
Get inside my heart- absurd
That I would fall so easily.

For as long as I love him and as long as I care,
My heart will continue to tear and tear.

You scare me silly.
I'm 3 million years old, but you don't care.
I'm five to you.
A little girl.
Who's inevitably and perpetually,
Silly.

A stillness foreshadows
Lingering, eerily calm
Then a single, gentle thud
Disrupts the silence.
The leak springs,
Grows into a flood
Water runs over hot skin
Caressing each freckle, each wrinkle.
Eyes closed,
Truly feeling every shiver of
A feather's tracing down my spine.
I seize the warm feeling
Letting the streaming continue,
Greedily succumbing to the water.
My grip loosens upon the umbrella,
A distant "pnk" on the pavement marks its fall.
I am gone, the rain having
Taken me over.

I find epics quite exhausting
For while the hero fights for the dead
I find my attention wandering
To a buzzing fly overhead.