Stresses Overwhelm
Previous - this entry written on February 14, 2009 at 5:21 pm - Next


think of me when you look in the mirror
dream of me tonight
my face, my voice,
my arms around you
my scent, my taste,
remember I found you
saw the angel and the demon both
hiding behind the broken boy

think of me when her hands touch your body
dream of what I am
my will, my whim,
you're going under
sink down, submit,
my dreambound lover
you're the angel and the demon both
sheltered inside the broken boy

think of me when you can't stop crying
dream of dead tomorrow
no pain, no fear,
my soul your shelter
my words will say
the things you can't tell her
when the angel and the demon both
lie mute beneath the broken boy
you'll rage, you'll scream,
you swore to follow
I'll drag you in
when words seem hollow
when the devil and the saint both are silenced,
I will sing to you
my angel
my demon
my broken boy

Stealing a moment of computer time. *shrug* One more gone; that's just how it is, I guess. I'll miss the demon, I will.

Headache, backache, and confusions. Pardon the poetry; I've been going through the archive on briar-h again. I'm outa here.

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