The word tasted good in my mouth, a promise, a cure to this life that I didn't want to live. Two years had passed since he had first spoken that word into my ear and since then it had infected me. Filled me up with a reason to live even if it would be the thing that ended us both.
My feet scrape against the cold stone of the bridge. They will be swollen, bleeding from cold and the bits of glass that where scattered around, infected from the rust that was attracted to the stickiness of the blood like a mosquito. In the end it won't matter because we will both be swollen and bloody and infected with the disease that no one can cure b
i. to a skylark
the world must be full of pregnant clouds
and the swaying of grass as well as
the wiggling of worms for breakfast.
ii. your eating yourself alive from the inside
out but from the way you act every day
it doesn't really look like you care
so i will not stop you from falling into
iii. you are a sea spell woven by the
pale white hands of hollowed eyes monsters
that lurk in the deep.
this was the summer that was supposed to last forever.
9o degree days spent at the beach, laughs and promises meant not to last.
you said it was even
the best time of your
like that cheesy ad we all used to make fun of.
i remember we were laughing when it all ended, some inside joke.
brought back from the
than a blur of lights, a glimpse of the stars as we where pulled forward from our seats.
that one last smile of yours, forever categorized as
than the crash, metal on metal and a cutoff scream.
a final plead and passing of frantic
"i love you's"
as we realized that this was our life, flashing before ou
it was all too cliche.
lies that you're meant to figure out.
the perfect recipe for disaster.
i should have
seen past those
and look where it's gotten me?
so now i'm left.
with no place to turn.
when your off smileing,
getting some other girl
as i was. to
I've been observing a situation of the artist who courageously set up their prices on very decent prices (in meaning: no more 50 bucks full color image of yer characters! but almost 200$ one for her really nice character painting) where I felt so proud of her for being brave to set up the real price of the art. But I was also a witness of bunch of complaining people (mostly I noticed they were young) screaming that her art is not worth for shitload bucks.
I really wanted to slap faces of these people.
Really, who decide that someone's art is worth that price?
You do not decide how much wort is my art - as my work.
You do not know how muc
for christmas i received:
* a laptop
* a cricut
* pajamas and a dress
* gift-card to barnes and noble and about 4o$
* looots of candy so my braces can suffer even mooore and the lady can yell at me with her accent.
* a fancy pen and journal
* and i'm going to buy a quill/calligraphy set for myself with the money.
* as well as some books ^
i'm also going to attempt to do some drawing and such because i haven't done anything of the sort and it's christmas break so i have no excuse not too.