Anywho, high school is still crap and the general quality of life still blows. At least there's much to look forward to.


The Party ConfessionThe man that I love does not want to own me. He takes me,The Party Confession
but will not keep me. And my dirty little secret is that I know.
I know
but like an addiction,
I cannot scratch him from my skin… tear him from my blood. Every time we touch I b r e a k
blind; deaf; dumb?
I weep in the morning am not at peace
until enfolded I am in his arms.


summer rainsitting with summer rain in white shirt and a grin sexy’s how i feel, perhaps a little wet but breathless out of birth at the touch of your handsummer rain


EulogyTo think I'd loved the walking dead. It makes me laugh through bitter tears To read the words you often shed.Eulogy
Yet no one mourns for you, I fear. Not even you will shroud your heart That rots and festers in the clear.
Its stench was hidden in your art. And here you are, a wand'ring soul, So fresh in youth yet torn apart.
If truth be told, I'd thought you whole. Your rosy lips and sweet breath lied For all those summer nights of old.
Now winter came and went in tide-- Washed up your shell with one sad wave And cleansed my eyes to see


TonightTonight, as evening fell, I left the lights off And let the house grow full with hue Before night encased this town and home in slough With dim pricks of starlight poking throughTonight
Thus I dressed and primped in readiness for you A dash of rouge here, gold eye color Before slipping on that dress with sleeves askew The one you liked for its collar
The car pulls up, rattling a rude holler As evening fell, I left the lights off It’s our way of hiding in garish glamour But the starlight’s sometimes too soft
It’s taken a long time to thank everyone for the good words on Occasional Angel, it’s been quit overwhelming.
Nimra
!x. AURAskies
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- Hysterical index - /
AURAskies - The Journal! /
those archive pieces are all suffering from different problems rooted in my inexperience at the time; comments like yours will help me pinpoint what i need to do to bring them up to my current level.
isn't the multiple meaning thing nice? poems acquire new meanings for me long after i write them, too. part of the magic.
thank you...
And yeah, I can't say that I've had poems that acquire new meaning.. but I've definitely had monologues that take on new levels of meaning for me.
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"It looks like we're up chocolate creek without a Popsicle stick."
—The Gingerbread Man, Shrek 2
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Please god let me fall in love; I want to do disgusting things.
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"But there comes a point in life, a moment. Where your mind outlives it's desires, it's obssions. When your habits survive your dreams, and when your loses...maybe death is a gift. You wonder." - David Gale "The Life of David Gale"
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