Pure AngerI'de write a poem if I had something to frickin' write withPure Anger
that would mean I had have to collect myself and go through my argafaster junk
my life is acycle revoling around a choatic square wheel I'm so frickin' frustrated at having my life in boxes
I feel like a person grabbing at air trying to touch even the hem of fimilarity
inbetween the closing in wallsof trying to hold and move on if I could jut unpack a little calm in this mess
Guess what? I'm annoyed confused
Stand upWhat do you do when you're at your wirs end Your voice is unheard But unlike them, I can hear WHat? Am I supposed to cower and bend to your will I hate you My love for is void of respect My tears are for the loss of my mom(metaphorly) Why does love make living harder Love is supposed to lift you up and hold your hand But now I don't want to hold your hand Tonight I beat you down with difiance Each of us on a side of the door You with a screwdriver Me holding the doorknob in place It makes me smile sadly When I think of what your face must haveStand up
La PorteA closed door is an attempt to keep you out A feeble shield from your hurt A way to shut my haven A symbol of a pryayer ~If the door is closed you will forget me A piece of time... Where I can curl up onto myself, safe in my own arms A loyal friendLa Porte
Looming figure A reminder of the obligation to leave A way to anger the goddess The weakness of my wall... vurneable A splinter in my ego: for it is a symbol of my inability to defend myself
Let my music flow over me Let me be sfe
go in the door after u open itYou can't put the cart berore the horse You can't wipe your butt before you poop You can't win the war before you fight the battle You can't have a hen before you have an egg You can't have darkness before you turn off the lightgo in the door after u open it
You can't have a good household before people our happy But you wouldn't know that
--
"Be a little bit of everything without losing yourself"
--
We're calling all bedwetters and ambulance chasers
Poor picker-pockets, bring them in
Come join the Youth and Beauty Brigade
~The Decemberists
--
Fear and lies fester in darkness. The truth may wound, but it cuts clean.
ok, happys done
Previous PageNext Page