Monday, May 26, 2008

Friday, May 16, 2008

please just stop

Sunday, May 4, 2008

things schmings

by disappointment only
thanks for the killer dates.
killer being operative
cutesyness
where why how
hate to love and love to hate
dumbass :)
head on collisions
wake up call
food to gogh
illuminate confidence
obsession
reeking magnolias
child
miu miu shoes
chloe glasses
mental texts
clouuded airbags
miss communication
friendships
tests
others
direction
mood
class
money.
all these things and more.
breathe out and breathe you in
thank you jesus.
in a confusing world, you are the only truth that stands firm
amen.

Wednesday, January 2, 2008

miles



simon's happiness is wrapped in a little black pooch.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

let every heart prepare him room

Monday, November 5, 2007

egeneus




audrey found him.
i found him.
we fight for love.
heh

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...