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Strumming my guitar. Plucking my bass. Pressing keys on the piano. My mind is tellin' me that I had to be a ace. Feelin' the rhythm, through the music notes. Shoving my music down people's throats.
I Trimester (1, 2, 3) Beneath my eyelids I'm lividToo weak to impress I'm compressingPink - the sun beyond this layer of skinI'd consider it pink if I knew any other color
Beginnings. The first page. The first wave. For later, it describes the first date. Emotions bonded within the first chapter. Feels like a happily ever after. Captured. By lust and compassion.
i'll admit it. sometimes it's hard to make me happy. when my brain is working so hard to keep my spirits down pumping chemicals i know shouldn't be there
I am cursive.
Colors for you
Who is society to distinguish what is right and wrong? Is it size, weight, appearance, or personality that defines us? We judge, we look, we quickly decide within the first ten seconds who that person is.
The left arm is the pain and hurt that’s been suffered all this time, while the right is a shrine to the family that’s there no matter what.
Sometimes I dream about the half eaten dinner for two rotting in my fridge Lusting for the time when that goose was first cooked
The rain dropsnot from the clouds,but from the Heavens above.They drip from the treetopsand drop from each branchand nestle into leaves,glisten on webs woven tight fromspiders at night,