I always cry when I drive away from your house. Not because you hurt me, not even because you love her and not me, I just, genuinely hate to leave you. I miss you the minute you close the car door and I am alone. There is nothing but that crushing sense of finality. You're gone from my life, for however long. I do a U-turn at the round-about just so I can drive past your house again. I always wonder if you're looking out at me.
Tonight was hardest. I wanted to go back so much I shook. I messaged you and everything. (I was too chicken to call) I guess tonight was different. I watched you lie on her knee and it didn't hurt as much. I was happy
You look at me
Always looking at me
Judging me
Critiquing me
Yet I love you.
I truly do!
Yousee,
You're just like me.
You've got such a charming smile,
Tilted slightly to the side
Uneven eyebrows,
(but who cares really)
A pimple or two
Or three
Really.
You'll stare confrontationally
Like you'll punch me
Eventually.
Oh dear darling
They think you're a fop
With your dark eyes and a cherry on top.
Isn't it strange
Isn't it queer
The subjects we take
Take our will to steer
I want to be in plays
I would like to do some art
But philosophy made me worry
It's all going to fall apart
I wanted to write stories
Show life in your shoes
But communications told me no
I've got not right to choose
I could always fix the world
Make my life of travels
But politics held me tight
Showed me where it unravels
I might just teach kids
Grammar, verbs; just a smatter
But french shoved me roughly
And told me I wouldn't matter
I think I'm broken.
I use and abuse and.. reuse people. I wring them out. Dry.
It's becoming a regular pattern.
You see,
I love too easily, and need too much.
Some people can actually handle it.
(I love, oh how I love those people.)
But generally they all end up the same.
Monosyllabic responses, neither positive nor negative.
Always non-commital.
I pour my heart and my soul and what do you know,
It's always the same.
I warned him.
I held him in my arms and I warned him.
Told him I needed him.
Told him I loved him.
Told him I'd befriend him.
Told him I'd destroy him.
And he joked.
I still love him.
I still need him.
One day I want to walk right up and tell you. Tell you I dream about you. The one of you and couches. I think it's constructed from some movie but it's still, calming. We're shopping, always shopping and the store never ends. We just run, or walk, from couch to couch. Sit and just breathe in each other. I can't tell you how good it feels, in that sepia toned hall, to have you there with me.
Once, we got to the end. You took me home to my flat. We didn't buy any couches and I think, I was sad. And somehow, you smiled at me and it was okay. That smile that makes you look like a pixie. And I laughed, and looked down.
You never kiss me, in my
Evie and Joe - 'Joyce' Part 2 by My-Shadowe, literature
Literature
Evie and Joe - 'Joyce' Part 2
Do you love him? When his arms hold you right, tight. Do you love him? When he smiles misshapenly at you and tells you something you'll never know, or care about, do you love him?
Or did you just want him?
I always cry when I drive away from your house. Not because you hurt me, not even because you love her and not me, I just, genuinely hate to leave you. I miss you the minute you close the car door and I am alone. There is nothing but that crushing sense of finality. You're gone from my life, for however long. I do a U-turn at the round-about just so I can drive past your house again. I always wonder if you're looking out at me.
Tonight was hardest. I wanted to go back so much I shook. I messaged you and everything. (I was too chicken to call) I guess tonight was different. I watched you lie on her knee and it didn't hurt as much. I was happy
You look at me
Always looking at me
Judging me
Critiquing me
Yet I love you.
I truly do!
Yousee,
You're just like me.
You've got such a charming smile,
Tilted slightly to the side
Uneven eyebrows,
(but who cares really)
A pimple or two
Or three
Really.
You'll stare confrontationally
Like you'll punch me
Eventually.
Oh dear darling
They think you're a fop
With your dark eyes and a cherry on top.
Isn't it strange
Isn't it queer
The subjects we take
Take our will to steer
I want to be in plays
I would like to do some art
But philosophy made me worry
It's all going to fall apart
I wanted to write stories
Show life in your shoes
But communications told me no
I've got not right to choose
I could always fix the world
Make my life of travels
But politics held me tight
Showed me where it unravels
I might just teach kids
Grammar, verbs; just a smatter
But french shoved me roughly
And told me I wouldn't matter
I think I'm broken.
I use and abuse and.. reuse people. I wring them out. Dry.
It's becoming a regular pattern.
You see,
I love too easily, and need too much.
Some people can actually handle it.
(I love, oh how I love those people.)
But generally they all end up the same.
Monosyllabic responses, neither positive nor negative.
Always non-commital.
I pour my heart and my soul and what do you know,
It's always the same.
I warned him.
I held him in my arms and I warned him.
Told him I needed him.
Told him I loved him.
Told him I'd befriend him.
Told him I'd destroy him.
And he joked.
I still love him.
I still need him.
One day I want to walk right up and tell you. Tell you I dream about you. The one of you and couches. I think it's constructed from some movie but it's still, calming. We're shopping, always shopping and the store never ends. We just run, or walk, from couch to couch. Sit and just breathe in each other. I can't tell you how good it feels, in that sepia toned hall, to have you there with me.
Once, we got to the end. You took me home to my flat. We didn't buy any couches and I think, I was sad. And somehow, you smiled at me and it was okay. That smile that makes you look like a pixie. And I laughed, and looked down.
You never kiss me, in my
Evie and Joe - 'Joyce' Part 2 by My-Shadowe, literature
Literature
Evie and Joe - 'Joyce' Part 2
Do you love him? When his arms hold you right, tight. Do you love him? When he smiles misshapenly at you and tells you something you'll never know, or care about, do you love him?
Or did you just want him?
you'll call me pretty things because you don't know my name yet:
today: empty doorways.
i am empty doorways. a prosthetic limb with vermillion coated oceans oozing from beneath my kneecaps, and you'll say you love me as you swim in the soaking floorboards.
(& i'll call you beautiful as i trace your stained skin with my ivory fingertips. i love you back.)
yesterday: november sunsets.
i am november sunsets. a starry-eyed shoreline, crashing beneath the supernovas, and washing your feet as i drag you closer to me. after that you'll show me your split lips and touch them against mine.
(& i'll touch yours back, and tell you november sunset
The Mushroom Groove by Superiorflowerpower, literature
Literature
The Mushroom Groove
When I was sitting all alone,
Chewing my face down to the bone,
Studying walls in this sad room,
Through the door hopped a small mushroom.
'Hello Mr. Morgan sir,
How are you on this day?
I myself am feeling grand,
In fact, a little gay.'
It's fair to say I was confused,
And also rather unamused,
This mushroom man was glowing bright,
A most unnatural, ugly sight.
'Oh please Mr. Morgan sir,
Won't you come to play?
Come join me in my little dance,
I'm feeling rather gay.'
At this point I looked up and said,
'Mr. Mush you spin my head.
How much more time must I pass,
As you proceed to shake your arse?'
'Come now Mr. Morgan sir
Sorry but, have mad love for tumblr. So. Good. And can receive news too! Murrgood.
ButBUTBUT. Will have new photos. FILM photos. *happy goo*
Soon Soon Soon!
Moving to tumblr a bit. Just. I dunno, dev. reminds me of year 9 and there's too much old icky poetry on it. So, yeah. Moving pieces I -like- over to tumblr and.. Yup. That's about it. ^^
http://lick-your-walls.tumblr.com/
Also the blog no longer exists really.... As much as I loved the blog. It was annoying.
So, yeah.
LOVES.
Ohai. Selfconfidence gone! But hey, you've got to start somewhere. There is a Zine that is better/prettier run by a person who is prettier/fantastic and murrr. Must not get disheartened! Competition breeds brilliance. Murrno. Feelin' like a lil bit of a failbubble right now. And I guess I'm a tad bit scared for having things yanked out of my spine but hey. Who doesn't need a good shake up in their life?
Murr.
Back to the drawing board! More arts needed. The usual.
Might have to resort to using photography. Shock horror. Also craft. Hmmm.
*disappears into the blackness*
Ahh. Don't do that! They're all horridly old and such. Although some do retain my love and affection ^^
But yes. You are Sam! I know you from various people. I'm actually a friend of Raj's and he mentioned you in passing. (Yousee I'm in the process of producing a Zine and ol' Raj is one of the lovely few who are actually interested). So yeah, I though I'd give you a good ol' stalk via facebook. And what ho? You're on dev!
I'm sorry, no watch. But you can have that novel of explanation instead.
they're still nice! lots of my photos are old, but i still like some of them! and yes, i am sam. but i still have no idea who you are. :\ your name is no where!