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root of the root sometimes i wish it would rainroot of the root by ~avantgarde73
there's something so poetic in rain.
standing, my hair in my face; a dramatic expression
---even a cliche is more.
sitting
endless rerun
Corona with extra lime
music ceaselessly flowing
not wanting you back, no.
i consider myself a realist.
i would settle for quitting;
or having a breakdown;
or sleeping.
the sound of your eyes or vision of your voice
-it was a comfort, like a favorite brand of cigarette.
i'm so fucking sick of that feeling
in my skin whenever i think of you.
its not cute anymore. get out of my head
some kind of moving on is all i need.
...pathetic.
ohms yesyesyesyesyesyesohms by ~avantgarde73
who are you laughing at now?
i fucked myself, i guess.
why do you look at me Darl
she's gone but not forgotten
mistakes relived day by day
hour by hour
minute by minute
second by second
yesyesyesyesyesyes
night it was the coldest spring that year,night by ~avantgarde73
a year ago now. does it seem so long?
that night when we found each other.
wandering aimlessly,
the smoke blowing out of my mouth,
momentary flash, mewithyou.
these words ignite if sparked
and we burned. burned like a torch in the bed of our youth,
passed now, innocence a spark: once here, now gone.
Sonnet I sing your damned song,Sonnet I by ~avantgarde73
rejoice in verse and chorus, do!
to me you'll never belong
was better, had i never met you!
2 AM, still up writing!
mental image of your face
can't stop this, conscience biting!
my door no more you grace
my dearest muse has left me
in heart of hearts once worn!
this sad man, bereft. me!
is it right, to be so torn?
must you die to live, once, die!?
and must i live to die, once,...i?!
I should be fast asleep My eyes cast out the windowI should be fast asleep by ~slowlyslippingaway
Through the sticky, summer heat
The shadows looming through the black
I should be fast asleep
The grey clouds cast a mournful veil over the moon. My window lies open to let in the breeze. I try to look away, but my eyes are drawn back, and it is my curiosity, or perhaps my fear, that draws me to look out though the oddly-smelling flyscreen, through which the pleasant scents of the night are filtered into plastic harshness.
The wind plays with the tall trees
The darkness with my eyes
The night time holds a terror
Of foreboding, lurking spies
The wind bites at the trees, and the trees bite back. The d
Sta.sh
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<3
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Oh by the way, which one's Pink?
you've got some really good stuff; i like your style. i especially like "dreams to extinguish the mind".
come check out my gallery!
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Oh by the way, which one's Pink?