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Poetry and I are not in loveReally Sir, you have some gall. Poetry and I aren't intimate at all.
--Don't get me wrong, I like him a lot We'll flirt and we'll dance, but love we will not!
I am his friend, and he is mine and I admit, I think poetry's fine
and it's obvious poetry likes me too... But it isn't like that, you haven't a clue.
You see, poetry has lovers-- lovers galore. Those who will goggle, caress and adore,

I couldn't compete.  Well I could, but I don't. those girls are prettier and sweeter... I just won't.
they're empty and tasteless Poetry and I are not in love
by ~wanderer31

To Fans of the Morbid WriterHow lovely a sight
My victims shaking with fright from the dark words I composed
Their faces turn green at what their mind’s seen a tale full of terrible woe
When characters die and survivors cry I watch the dear reader’s face
It twists and contorts You pray with whole heart it ends with a loving embrace
If I killed them all Both the big and the small You would turn away
So I let one survive maybe three, maybe five They’ll live for another day
I hope you can see You truly f To Fans of the Morbid Writer
by ~wanderer31

morbidity scrap part 1They say every good story starts with a bang. Something out of the norm, like a doorbell, an explosion, or, in the case of George Johnstone, the alarm clock that sat on the dresser next to his bed. It screeched for a good two minutes before George managed to pull himself out of his own colorful subconscious, and another three before he had the energy to reach out and shut it off. He stiffly pulled himself up to a sitting position on the mattress on the floor that served as his bed. Rubbing his eyes, all he wanted to do was go back to sleep. George stood up and began to get dr morbidity scrap part 1
by ~wanderer31

Untitled Ripping off feeble flesh cruelly munching on raw insides oranges are victims Untitled
by ~wanderer31

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The Darkness
by *Morriperkele

Poketrek-Set 1
by ~Jiori-Seth

Light Music for Dance and Ruinwritten in the midst of delirium, March 6, 2005
now that our lives are the remains of broken stone, come, give me your hand and let us rise to dance, for I have been faithless, and you, too wavering; we have tried too hard, and the box is empty. late day fills the room and white walls remain, a million bright sparks from a great extinguishing. the curve of our arms will not be gone. and every clock in every room stands unerringly precise. look at me again; let us face the last fact. Yes, your curls speak volumes, left better unsaid, and blue eyes are cold steel on a day Light Music for Dance and Ruin
by ~mezla

Billy Played Guitar
by ~rcsi1

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~ferriswheelsdayoff

~aurora-dawn101

it's been a while

Sun Nov 15, 2009, 6:22 AM

It has definitely been a while since I've posted anything on here, so I'm going to try and dig up some stuff to add to the site. Life has been so incredibly hectic I don't even want to think about it. Really. ANyway, I'm off to watch some DMC, write, and then attend audio lab. *sigh*

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