Maybe someone sits up there
Puffing a cigarette
Blowing out whiffs of dense air
Creating clouds of smoke
Strands of soul
Filling them with lives
Making them swindle
Dance and intermingle
Entangle
Dance together
For their short while
Filled with life
They dance
Hand in hand
In twos threes and as many as they can
And then drift apart
Fade out
Into the oblivion
Calling an end
To that while called life
While they danced
Like creatures conjured
Out of his puffs
That dance together in groups and in a pair
Before they scatter away
Like mist in the air
Maybe,
Maybe someone sits up there

what is love, it is a mystery. you can never really comprehend it no matter how hard you try. and then girls, you can never really understand them, they have a good poker face. hell, girls dont even understand girls. so what is love, love is when there is trust

I set my cruise on the highway and
am passed by a red AMC Eagle.  
This red rusty AMC Eagle has a
wind shied covered in frost because,
I'm guessing, the defrost motor burned
up in a bakelite mushroom cloud from the
dashboard.  
It is held together with duct tape
and grit.  The pilot sits behind his cardboard
console ludicrously warm in winter parka,
scarf,
hat
and gloves.

I pass him waving dressed
in my tshirt and shorts.
Driving in my new, awesomely
economical car.
Four dashboard vents dump lava warm air
to keep me pleasingly toasty.
The pilot will never understand that I wave
not at his expense, but in envy.  The billboard
on my right says it all,
If I have to explain you wouldn't understand.

My heart is open, speak Your truth
I’m waiting for Your word
For I know that You’re the only one
Who can heal my every hurt.

My eyes are open, show Your face
I’m waiting for Your love
For I know that You’re the only one
Who can fix my heart up.

Open me, I’m asking You:
Take and break these chains;
Flood my heart with mercy
And blind my eyes with grace.

My hands are open, take Your glory
I was stealing it all for me
But I know that You’re the only one
Who deserves my bended knee.

My mouth is open, take Your praise
I’m tired of praising my own name
For I know that You’re the only one
Who can make that claim.

Open me, I’m asking You:
Take and break these chains;
Flood my heart with mercy
And blind my eyes with grace.
Open me, I know it’s You
Who holds a hurting heart
Drown my soul in Your love
And heal my every scar.

CRUSH

Crush,
The term wouldn’t exist if it doesn’t hurt does it?
When does it start? This feeling,
It grows bigger and larger,
And suddenly I realise,
My heart is on the verge of exploding,
Bursting with emotions that I can’t help but feeling so.

The only thing that I have want to convey and send to you is
‘I like you’, ‘I like you a lot’,
My heart, it hurts,
Evan seeing you from afar, my heartbeat goes crazy,
It's hard to breath,
How do I stop this feeling?
I am tired, I am sad, I am happy, I am anxious,
Because the only thing I have been thinking of is you,
You! You! and only you,

But crush, oh crush,
In the end you’re just a crush,
Those words,
They were never conveyed,
And I silently keep this feeling to myself,
With the faint hope that you’ll return this feeling,
In this feeble heart of mine,
And again, it hurts.

-nuraishahazman-

the razors were her best friends
the only source of control of the pain she endured.
her hair was falling out
her skin , pale as the snowy grounds of December.
no one ever cared
until they day she wore short sleeves and everyone got scared