

FoundCreamy skin revealed through the fallen leaves, A body, late teens early twenties, stripped. Female. Legs and shoulders bruised – misperceives, The relevance in light of the new crypt. Chafe marks around the lower shins, red, scarred. A burn, one inch, right arm, just above the wrist, Branded. For a moment caught off her guard. How and when could she possibly resist?Found
Feet rough, walked barefoot. Felt grass beneath her, Toes. A pillow of moss and matted hair She does whatever he would prefer - She knelt for him. Her head bowed like in prayer. Black made-


Interpret MeA body found naked, Stripped,Interpret Me
Bruised,
Burnt.
Marks on the ankles,
Chafed, Scarred, Red.
A misinterpreted life, Makeup smudged, Eyes dilated, Lips pale.


Kindly wakingWhy do you do, that thing you do? Is it him forcing himself through? To watch the tears tumble in pain, The promises you gave, again and again.Kindly waking
For tonight I sleep and wonder why, The lips that touched make me sigh, Who are you, tell me more? A secret key needed to open the door.
--
< Old age is inevitable - growing up is optional >
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Remember: friendship means "I care." So let`s show our friends that we do care.
--
These words were left between 8am and 9pm.
These words were left in real time.
--
These words were left between 8am and 9pm.
These words were left in real time.
--
Writing, at its best, is a lonely life. Organizations for writers palliate the writer's loneliness but I doubt if they improve his writing. He grows in public stature as he sheds his loneliness and often his work deteriorates.
Ernest Hemingway
--
--
i said i was wearing black so you could
see me against the sky
--
Suit yourself. I'm easy.
"Use the words 'I wish' with the same amount of caution you would normally reserve for 'please castrate me.'"
:hobbes:
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