I have some big projects in mind and I'm SO EXCITED.


Point Number TwoI can think of a million reasons for this, but none of them seem to fit. I make a point to remember,Point Number Two
but I always seem to forget.
All I can taste now is a sickly crimson, iron bitterness. In rolling rivers, it brings about what's left of my clever sickness. And the only sound I hear is these words, spilling from my mouth like ink. My brain is taxed and burdened with rotten mire, yet I can still think.
I've been drawn and quartered and strung from the rafters. It is pure hell that I am going through; watching you into the hereafter. Once I was quick and free, now


Other SideThese halls only remind me of you. I can hear your painfully familiar voice, but it is just an echo now.Other Side
I have been searching for you; I can still feel your presence embedded in these walls.
I close my eyes and hope that when I open them again, you will be back here with me.
But as I regain my sight, I am tortured in knowing that you are alone on the other side. I miss the feeling of your hand in mine, our laughter mingling in the summer skies. It is as if I can still feel your heartbeat resonating through the still air, though it is only my own.
I try to run, I try to escape the memory you have


StratosphereBeneath the stars tonight, but our spirits burn brighter. Louisville sunrises on the river, flying when you take my hand. We whom exist here are not everlasting;Stratosphere
we are transient and fleeting. Then when we slip away through the trees; our laughter echoes off the towering ancients. We are ever so ready for tomorrow,
reckless in youth, retarded in love; yet we walk slowly through the gardens careful to not offend the departed. An accidental kiss, a flushed face, and I am like a stone in heaven. I am not quite belonging here but would rather not que


What You Were, What I'm Notyou were blood-soaked and holding a gun and i clutched the edge of the sofa you were soaring in a sleek, sexy steel contraption and i leaned back and whistled with a reserved sort of awe. you were dying of tuberculosis and you held me in your palm and said your lines straight to me eyes glinting like monet's water lily pond alabaster and slick with sweat and emotion. you wanted to be the king of the world and i egged you on shamelessly i wanted you to be king too (still do) you said things and i ignored the content of the words and listened to the way they were said  What You Were, What I'm Not
Hayley
--
"summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain"
~ e.e cummings
--
Sally, the Exiled Zombi
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