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 boythink 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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