

The OverloadMy life story... A mother who claims she loves you, we'll start with that one. What is in a mother who tells you everyday that you're ugly, you'll never be as good or pretty as her, you'll never amount to anything, you'll never get anywhere in life, you're a whore at 14, a Father who tries to love you as best as he can hates you, you're the reason her marrige is falling apart because you're the product of adultry, she promises to help you get in contact with your biological father, and hasn't followed through in the almost 3 years that you've known! What kind of mother is that?The Overload


What Would You Do?What do you do when you have nowhere to turn? When your not sure why you feel this way. You can't put your finger on it but you know somethings wrong. Somethings amiss, and just not right.What Would You Do?
What are you sapposed to do when you don't know what it is? When your confused beyond all recognition, and your not sure which way is up. Like your on an emotional rollercoster with no destination. Because you don't know why your there.
Who do you ask? When you've tried asking but God sends no reply. You can't describe it to your friends or family. All because you have no idea w


Missing you bothThe three of us... Always together, She plays the mediator, While the two of you squabble.Missing you both
All tough decisions made with her advice, All problems decided by her, She's the one who holds it all together, Now she is gone forever-or it seems that way.
Moved away, School gone to hell in a hand basket, No more organization, Who will step up to the plate?
She calls as often as she can, She writes as much as she can afford to, With tears she breaks down, The one who holds her world together gone.
He doesn't return, And he


UNTITLEDA beauty so rare, You hold such dispair.UNTITLED
A Secret held inside, Where It will reside.
The one she calls True, Known only to you.
Longing to know His face, Left only to imagine His embrace.
The day will come, Yet you hold your tounge.
Praying to God for what you yearn, Only to receive no response in return.
Your mind wonders more day by day, Even though you know He is far away.
You have only a Name, And your curiosity unable to tame.
He knows not who you are, So you wish on a falling-star.


checkmateHis hands rested lightly on the keys, piano keys.checkmate
Stark black slapped almost barbarically on white; a seductive trail of dark sins marring would be perfection, lingering over a perfectly arched neck and tracing the hollow at one’s throat, where soft white skin is found to be exposed and vulnerable.
He smiles, captivated by her pain- yes, sweet pain, the eventual root of his demise, the eradication of all the pieces of his soul. Her pain, captured in his eyes. His pain, reflected in hers. He could never tell whose was whose anymore- perhaps it was all hers… or all his. His soul was in pieces, each singular existence
I love you my dearest!
I don't get on here much, plus I'm kinda grounded.. but I do have a new myspace
[link]
I get on that often to check messages n such.
~*1-2-05*~
gimme a call babydoll
--
:*:Bring Me A Cookie And I'll Give You A Kiss:*:
Time doesn't change,
love never dies,
and the pain will always be there...
Remember when... yeah, well I do.
--
"in wet streaks they fall down my cheeks
they don't stop until it seems there are no more
so I write
and my Pen cries for me
spilling everything on to this paperthe paper is drenched
their falling again onr by one,
letter by letter."
<3
--
:*:Bring Me A Cookie And I'll Give You A Kiss:*:
Time doesn't change,
love never dies,
and the pain will always be there...
Remember when... yeah, well I do.
--
"If they don't believe in God, I'll show them the devil" -Emily Rose ~support
--
"in wet streaks they fall down my cheeks
they don't stop until it seems there are no more
so I write
and my Pen cries for me
spilling everything on to this paperthe paper is drenched
their falling again onr by one,
letter by letter."
--
"If they don't believe in God, I'll show them the devil" -Emily Rose ~support
--
"in wet streaks they fall down my cheeks
they don't stop until it seems there are no more
so I write
and my Pen cries for me
spilling everything on to this paperthe paper is drenched
their falling again onr by one,
letter by letter."
--
Haressh
~"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." Mark Twain
Keep up the work in your gallery, you have some really really good stuff
--
*~Take It Slow~*
Miset.
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