When others demand that we become the people they want us to be, they force us to destroy the person we really are. It’s a subtle kind of murder … the most loving parents and relatives commit this murder with smiles on their faces.
sometimes whats going on my head never fully makes it to paper. It’s hard to describe my side, my feelings through such an adolescent language. I wish there was a way to describe the sparks and fires of thoughts in my head.
New wire wraps and other hippie gear to be posted soon send me a mess about custom things
Knows the worst,
And it’s still okay,
Don’t you cherish me the same?
Hold me so awfully close,
So its stormy out there,
little waves of frighting stares,
Swollen ocean of lightly blue,
Sticky spliters stuck in you,
Wake up to a soften breath,
Lighted brush strokes tease you,
Whispered warmth, goose bumped tissue,
Heavy lids, strain to open
There is still a light,
Your incandescent lips, linger.