Since the day you went away
I just wanna close my eyes 'til i sleep
Cause I rather see you in my dreams
Than wake up without you

You were a petal of a rose
That settled on my palm
And I blew you away.


-- Eleanor

You're the person I fall asleep thinking about.
You're the person I wake up thinking about.
You're the person who holds me tenderly, whose gentle kisses ignite flames inside of me, the only person who can touch my soul and not only my body.
I think I've fallen in love with you, but I don't know love well enough. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I've never had someone like you in my life.

All I know for certain is that you are my special person.
You are mine.
To kiss, to touch, to hold, to comfort.
To laugh with, to fight with, to play with, to love with.

I think I've fallen for you.

Let lust be drowned to the off shores of love with syncronitivity and on
with no hectical differences amongst
the closure of another perfect fold.

While shades of grey begins to interpret , ultra dimension to the horizon of strumming dunes

The unrevealed songs step forth for an imminent act of initiation.
towards an mesmerising sound nature of death

For life withstand in and out through the path for an reason to lost , or found ; a sacred transformation
but if for even once, when life calls for a road to choose

Never let the one within be ever quiet and frown instead stand up roar; clear your vows
As life doesnt shy and neither will you, so try and you will recover every "how's"..

it'd be nice
to have someone
who would
love me
for
who i am
not
despite
who i am

Nothing pleasant happens here.
I'm asking you to stay
but telling you to leave.
I don't want to be alone,
but I want you to be happy.
and if you stay,
you should know
nothing pleasant ever happens here.

breath, turned out upon a
closed little world, can
dance and maybe some
thing i've known forever is
dawning
and/or has dawned, upon
my churning little world:

left in dust, sleeping for
a majority of the season,
some
days little more than
manifestation of the
meaninglessness of
life. monolithic guilt.
ever-full of empty.

but, others, i see you
in everything, dripping from
facets (have i said this before?
is this nothing new? i hope so),
see your eyes in strangers, not
so bright, but looming, still;
heave breath and smile and
know, somehow, we've been
tied together in this mess, and
that maybe life isn't devoid
of reason, or that it may still
be, and it doesn't matter.

I can't stop these erupting voices from telling me;
YOU'RE DOING IT ALL WRONG
I try my best,
but the best is never enough.
I work till my hands are bleeding,
till my feet are swollen,
till my brain is pulsing.
but it's never enough blood,
not enough pain,
too little of suffering.
in order to get better
they say;
YOU MUST FEEL THE SAME PAIN YOU CAUSED THEM
but enough is never enough
and the pain is never ending.
i will die because of the result of my failure to accept love.