

I miss your facei miss your face the space between your arms i fear is not empty tonight (but at least she has a tail)I miss your face
i miss your smile the things you left unsaid residing between your lips (put to other uses)
i miss your laugh the sound so reassuring it must have been something i said (perhaps what i'm doing)
i miss your hands the feel of a friend never losing contact (why are we so vunerable?)
i miss your face the look in your eyes right before you kiss me (can it happen again?)


please don't bother...please don't bother reading this until it's too lateplease don't bother...
i just thought you'd like to know that you were the one the one i lived for
i'm far too weak and yet just strong enough
after hours spent in agony how sweet the end will feel
it took me long enough to realize you weren't catching on to understand that you really didn't care to admit that i didn't care either
after all is said and done you were the same, you'll never change
i wonder what it would be like if this had a different ending but for that to happen &nbs


in memory of a...it's the part that comes from your head and that's all there is to it.in memory of a...
product placement & replacement
and ads that take up residence
in a small suburban home, settle down
with a broker from the other side of
economic railway spikes, and raise percentage points via trust in the stock.
pure bred and hard to live with - that's what's happening these days.
I once knew a man who said
every life is a told tale and,
once I discovered he neatly spilled
at the touch of a pen, I had no further use for subclauses warn dull blearily muck


dear moon, I am your tide.the weight your heart holds is youdear moon, I am your tide.
(bones breath and otherwise) your unfocused form waves
receding
I'd drink deep and dream large lay long
unslept nights unashamed with only skylines to
cover me
(see self as sea) star lit shore swept and all
points between framed
like faith for those you're swallowing


Over A Bottle...there's something worth seeing through at the bottom of this bottleOver A Bottle...
some memory soaked finale the melody of last words lingering
soft spoken notes sweet tastes tinged with tartness in the echoes of your voice (swallowed whole could make anyone cringe)
and I'll whisper secrets set aside as fiction fashioned in your image imagine it! each misplaced moment magnified by resplendent repetition
cheers to the past! every last piece p
--
I Run on Solar Energry.
I'm Solar Powered Baby!
.
.
.
.
--
# et puis...
# ... un rêve sans étoiles est un rêve oublié
e t s y │ b l o g
seeing a journal like that makes me want to hug you.
love! world is beautiful. life is happy. strangers love you. please don't fret.)
--
we are all in the gutter, only some of us are looking at the stars
. oscar wilde
--
we are all in the gutter, only some of us are looking at the stars
. oscar wilde
--Schematization
--
If you want to be a psychological novelist and
write about human behavior, the best thing you
can do is keep a pair of cats.
--A. Huxley
r.s.v.p.
dear moon, I am your tide.
in memory of a better suggestion
&
Over A Bottle
xo!
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