You fixed the lock
To that internal clock
That in my heart did dwell
I'm under your spell
You found the key
To set it free
Heart beating
Chest heaving
Mind spinning
Alive again
Your under my skin
Your traped within
Lost in time
Now that your mine

You take me to place of serenity,

A place humble yet beautiful;

A place sometimes quiet but still void of loneliness;

A place in which to call home;

A place in which my heart resides;

A place called 'Your Love'.

In your vacant look
Dwells my end.


-- Eleanor

jesse and i used to play games of fairies as children. i still have the drawing book which we gathered "facts" from. her crazy neighbor (with basically ten siblings.Mormons) played the games with us, but she too lived them. we put out "food" for them, ran from evil spirits, used powers to fuel the plot, ran through the trees and down hills, and used leaves, sticks, the weather, and even sounds in the wind to move the story. we grew to dismiss it as child's play (though i can't speak for the girl), but it was real. it was as real as anything, and affected us more than all else. our childhood was a fairy-tale it just didn't get a "happily ever after" in cursive at the bottom of the page. it was magic all the same.

What's it like to trade your friends for all the latest trends in music and art, when it's not from the heart?

And I'm wearing these heartbreaks as a symbol of pride to help to remind me that I'm doing just fine.

You can't keep me silent cause I'm a screamer from rooftops, a screamer in car rides.

I'm a dweller of basements and a stone's throw from walking to find peace of mind.

So we're packing our boxes and selling out short. And when they ask us, we'll say it couldn't have worked.

This isn't a good bye. It's a bitter "farewell." I've known you for too long, so believe me: "I'll see you in hell."

This isn't a good bye. It's a bitter "*******." I've known you for too long and this is long over due.

This isn't a good bye. It's a bitter "I'm done." I've known you for too long, that's it and I'm gone.

Sometimes I laugh myself to sleep, Sometimes I cry myself to sleep.
Sometimes I drive so fast just to feel the danger,
Sometimes I drive so slow just to get myself together.
Sometimes I listen to happy pop music just to see if it'll make me smile,
Sometimes I listen to sad music just knowing it'll destroy me.
Sometimes I Walk outside just to breath in the fresh air,
Sometimes I lay in bed all day just to dwell in my sadness.
Sometimes I know exactly who I am,
Sometimes I Don't know who I am at all.
And Sometimes just sometimes I give advice to others,
Sometimes they tell me that I should listen to my own advice.

The day is long-
my thoughts are few.
I must stop thinking
about you.

Must black out the sun,
Must fold up the sky.
And somehow return
To before July.

There is a time
When minds should dwell.
It wasn't mine. I knew that well.

Perhaps it's time
For the stag to stalk the gun
For the driver to be blinded
For the killer to panic.

Perhaps it's time
For my porcelain mask to crack
For the sweet smile to twist itself
For the pain to be revealed.

I have wasted the days.

Only now
As I dwell on the years old
Does my future end.
Only now
Does the stag stalk the gun.

Only now.

I have wasted the days.

I am a cave
for nobody dwells within me
and when someone does stay,
they leave just as quickly
im dark and depressing,
lonely and hidden
sunlight and happiness are forbidden
I wish that i could bring joy to others
without hurting myself time after another