Jeudi 6 mai 2010 à 1:51

Soul-sisters. Ain't miss what isn't done.
Labour your past and select your futur.
Where ever else people look you in the eyes.
Just be sure to thank the right ones.
If it doesn't help, stop it right now.
The words come when never espect.
She dreams all day long. She hopes for no diseases.
And nothing gets wrong when she's done nothing.
Moving on or moving forward helps to forget we have a past.
We do, look at people's faces when they smile, ain't when they cry.
Only with bravery. We collapse with memories and coming ideas.
Check your madonna and believe there's one person who'll never forget you.

Samedi 2 janvier 2010 à 22:46
My bed is cold. It is not wonderful. I don't care for anything, for anyone anymore. I don't want to be linked, I don't want a BF. I keep everything for myself. Hoping nobody dares looking at me. And let me go, pull out my heart like it used to. No more inspiration, lost in sleepyness. I feel dreaming constantly coincidently. So much in sleep. She's a blabbermouth. He's pointless. They're uppity and still unwilling to listen. She doesn't want anyhelp and cry on her own shoulders. No need of a sad flower. Cold is my head. 

Mardi 24 novembre 2009 à 10:30 A heart for nothing

don't need one if I love no one.

Drums and violons in my head, 

my life needs rythms. 

I fell in love,
with a place.
But all things go.

Vendredi 20 novembre 2009 à 17:35 Waiting in the ether.


It'll take all of my strength to give up

Can't afford to be just one in a flock,

become lost or mislaid

Most ideas turn to dust

And does anything I say seem relevant at all?

You've been at the helm since you were just five,

While I cannot claim to be more than a passenger,

Looking on the brighter side.

You better hurry,

Rabbit, run, run, run.

The worst part is over,

Now, get back on that horse and ride.


You belong to a simpler time

I'm a victim to the impact of these words,

And this rhyme.

Stepping over what now towers to the sky,

With no connection.

And let's jump out the window.

They are cold, still,
to form, feel, kill, propagate, only to die.
Dissolve magically, absurdly,
they'll end, leave, dissipate, coldly and strangly return.

Samedi 14 novembre 2009 à 15:03 Les jours paraissent longs quand on ne fait qu'attendre. 

My secret garden isn't really secret anymore. It's is polluted by all those strangers.
Stupid me. It has helped nothing. 
A regret only remains. Still.
Frustration grows inside of my garden. 
Birds are not allowed to fly until I'm happy. The river has dried up.
Ghosts are hunting my garden.
Afterall secrets make life even more interesting.

All in my head ?

Everybody destroys and life is ruined.

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