TelephoneMy bedroom phone has been covered in stage makeup, newspaper ink, and tears. Most importantly, though, it has been graced with multi-color Sharpies. Time faded all but the marker-drawn daisies, lime green music notes and giant red heart that attempted to hide the dull white plastic. However, as my sweaty palms have gripped the phone, most of these designs have worn off, leaving only the large red heart at the center. It reminds me that through this phone, I keep in touch with the people that mean most to me. Because of them, I have my own big red heart.Telephone
CrucifyPilate knew Jesus committed no crime, But the crowd all cried out, "Crucify!", And he gave in. We met, and the crowd yelled, "Crucify!"Crucify
We hadn't known each other for long Before the rumors were going strong. We talked, and they all yelled, "Crucify!"
We knew that we were only friends, And that was where our feelings end. But the crowd yelled "Love!" as strong as "Crucify!"
We didn't know the other felt the same, So we began to play a dangerous game. The more we played, the more the crowd yelled, "Crucify!"
Afraid to break the other's hea
BleachThey put my husband's body into a crisp, black sack, Sliding the metallic zipper up the front to hold him in. They turn to me and ask if I have any regrets, Their eyes unfeeling and cold.Bleach
I see my husband's dark, treacherous eyes, His firm, set jaw, His gritted teeth, complete with foul breath escaping through the gaps. I see his smug, superior smirk, His condescending, perpertually arched eyebrows,
His glistening, muscular body lying face-down on the living room floor, Crimson blood irrevocably staining my beautiful white carpet. Do I have any regrets?
"Ye
AprilHints of the past, Etched in gold lettering, Gleam from the wood, Staring down at the future.April
Schoolchildren shuffle in oversized desks, Mimicking teachers and mocking their roots, Ignoring the letters that spell history, Forgetting that there used to be a "before".
It's time for lunch and the room is left behind, Alone with hand-painted titles of founding brothers, Faded passions and hard-won battles, Left to rot.
Few remember and fewer care. All that matters is that it's here; Never you mind from whence it came. Now.
S
Un Pinguino.
In AbsentiaIt's hard to strike a distant spark, To hold a person's hand When contact has but written word And notes on which to stand.In Absentia
It's hard to charm an absent flame, To stay on someone's mind While daily life's a rival thought For one to fall behind.
It's harder, still, to tend a hearth That's burning nowhere near, To keep a blaze inside a world In which you can't appear.
Yet, somehow, she does.
Dear Everyone:
Adoration
--
Cake or death?
I'll take the cake.
Well we're out of cake!!
and talent...thats me.
--
fear the penguins that stalk moosai!!!! they are special penguins of doom!
--
" the truth
when published with good motives, and for justifiable ends, shall
be a sufficient defense."
"If they give you lined paper,
write the other way."
Much love,
Anne
--
" the truth
when published with good motives, and for justifiable ends, shall
be a sufficient defense."
"If they give you lined paper,
write the other way."
--
" the truth
when published with good motives, and for justifiable ends, shall
be a sufficient defense."
"If they give you lined paper,
write the other way."
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