| I am the gray in the ghost that hides with your clothes behind your closet door |


RememberThe first time I met you I fumbled through my pockets I thought that maybe passed the lint I'd find wordsRemember
When I touched your small hands I felt lightening But the burn was nothing more than warmness
I was scared,and nervous,and cautious,but intent So asked you what we already knew,how you felt too
I've felt stunned for this whole time And perfection has never been harder to put into words
Little

Thinking of my ExSomeone dear once told me that it was something specialThinking of my Ex
to love one's fellow man
(or woman, as the case may be)... But, sometimes I think I would like to harden my heart; too easily I walk through briers upon the path of misplaced devotion, hurting myself by caring where, perhaps, it was better I never ventured or returned.
Sometimes I want to make war, tear down the barriers
erected to keep me out and show those who have hurt me the voracity of my emotion -- though I know it will do no good. I can see that evil for what it is, and


UntitledHe took you by the hand and lead you across the Nile. Short and fragile, waiting for you. He told you to have no fear,Untitled
and I watched you Jump.
S
Lemon Poetry
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"I don't feel that I need to explain my art to you, Warren."
-A.J. Empire Records
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Nimm meine Hand,
wir fangen nochmal an.
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eAT mE, dRiNk mE
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Nimm meine Hand,
wir fangen nochmal an.
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Nimm meine Hand,
wir fangen nochmal an.
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