My chipper approach on life has fallen short. There are all kind-of things to know the right answer to, but don’t really feel it. It might just be a shroud, cover in understanding that strangness means seperation and that not going along means insanity. Preaching how sex is enjoyable may be the worst of it… Continue reading Without
Tag: conversations
My little secret…
He was my sister’s friend….about five years older than I was, and I was only 16. I had seen him when he came over to our house. The way he used to look at me, as if he has never seen a girl before….I must say, I enjoyed it. I would walk past the living… Continue reading My little secret…
She of the Past
She was the kind of girl you couldn’t tame. Her parents went balistic at their attempts to control her. Their demands to reduce the volume of her music wated, Even threats of pain if she didn’t take that mascara off were futile.
Get Out
How much pain can one person take How many smiles can they fake How many heartaches must they go through Until they see the pain inside you..
Prince Cambell
They said he was a just a child, a sweet faced, angelic child. Nothing was different about him, and everything would be perfect. When they looked at his white golden curls they crooned, and those daunting blue eyes made them stop and stare smiling at him. They pinched his cheeks and called him a sweet… Continue reading Prince Cambell
me?
I AM ****** To me, these 4 words seem as far as the unknown, the Truth. It seems so simple to say them, and I do say them almost everyday of my life. Yet, when I take the time to actually acknowledge the words, and look for their deeper meaning (as odd as it may… Continue reading me?
Broken Wings
Jaded dipositions cloud my vision, Confusion so disarry, spinning reality, darkened indecision, Can’t escape the haunting darkness, destroying your total existence, Surrounded by demands and expectations, can’t easily accept insistence.
Wicked Ways
Paul was up to his knees in mud. It was a dirty job this time of year, it always rained a lot, but the bulbs needed to be planted and the grass certainly needed mowing and he wasn’t about to let a bit of rain stop him.
From the Pits of Hell (or Writer’s Block)
For the past three years, I’ve been trapped in hell. At one time, I fancied myself a writer. Among many of the things I wanted to do with my life, I knew that one of those was to write. If I was incredibly lucky, perhaps see my book in a library some day.I have always… Continue reading From the Pits of Hell (or Writer’s Block)