To be what they want
Is to win a battle
To be who you are
Is to win a war

Dare you become my thrill
Imagination of your free will
Ready to obey my dark mind
Tied and submitting in kind
Yet responding to a hard hand

Making you feel and understand
Imposing your body for my pleasure
Naked and isolated at my leisure
Demanding more than you can give

The trees moving in the wind.
The leaves falling from the moving branches

Its beautiful.

What about when the leaves hit the ground?
They are stepped on
Rained on.
Probably ****** on.

So, that kind of *****.

He says he loves my mouth
Says he wonders what my lips feel like
He says that his eyes are glued to me,
And that if he saw me, he would just stare
I would stare back.

i am trying to
stay away from
this world today
because all it does
is wound me.

The crystal face is missing from this witness to the deed.
It doesn’t have its’ seconds hand, there is no longer need.
The date displays “11”. That it always will
to remind us of the day on in which fanaticism killed.
I look upon Todd Beamer’s watch and experience a chill,
realizing that while Time truly flies, it also can stand still.