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when you look in the mirror
wish you were somebody else?
Created on 2004-03-20 21:08:49 (#2575273), last updated 2008-12-04
317 comments received, 273 comments posted
Basic Account [Gift]
125 Journal Entries, 0 Tags, 0 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 3 Userpics
| Name: | Stacey |
|---|---|
| Birthdate: | 03-04 |
| Location: | New York, United States |
Eighteen:
I’m claimed to be some sort of writer whose pen draws magic trails
My notebook is emptier than you
And today I cannot stop blinking for just one instant to reveal your own personal coma
And today the margins eat away like hefty Italians
And today my paper is too small for words
She had silken sighs and muddy eyes
Muddy eyes had him and through the timber sighed the leaves Autumn forgot
in her haste
Why is it that what they tell you is what is
Sticky mouths, broken fingernails, dead eyes
Thoughts are tired of thinking for themselves
Eighteen years of being the Black sheep turned white
Eighteen years and a shorn facade
Eighteen hours to dawn, [will you be there?]
Eighteen and she’s already learned how to clone fire…
Blasphemy
And she comes, humming Jesus’ song while
Scooping up the daisies
Society digs the grave if this lesson comes too late
The rights of man chain her round
Caught from boot to tongue
Eighteen years past and the Bugle sounds
She’ll tell you what it is to be dead
slf
I’m claimed to be some sort of writer whose pen draws magic trails
My notebook is emptier than you
And today I cannot stop blinking for just one instant to reveal your own personal coma
And today the margins eat away like hefty Italians
And today my paper is too small for words
She had silken sighs and muddy eyes
Muddy eyes had him and through the timber sighed the leaves Autumn forgot
in her haste
Why is it that what they tell you is what is
Sticky mouths, broken fingernails, dead eyes
Thoughts are tired of thinking for themselves
Eighteen years of being the Black sheep turned white
Eighteen years and a shorn facade
Eighteen hours to dawn, [will you be there?]
Eighteen and she’s already learned how to clone fire…
Blasphemy
And she comes, humming Jesus’ song while
Scooping up the daisies
Society digs the grave if this lesson comes too late
The rights of man chain her round
Caught from boot to tongue
Eighteen years past and the Bugle sounds
She’ll tell you what it is to be dead
slf
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_eloveator, bestentagesbuch, blue16dolphin, checkeredcow, chokingonair, cowboycadenza, egron1587, firefighterkim, frprtgirl, irks128, j_pow, jonieyd, jujichanno, kylejozefski, lunchboxxartist, molliefalk, mr_ethanboy, queennuudle, redsoxjd18, starlw116, startiste, swagger_noodle, tacobellqueen, tan1mill, thekek2, vachement, xxjoshslifexx
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