And Now For Some Philosophy
I’m breaking into smaller vestibules -
Bodies of feeling,
Each one writing on a different page
Black and white stories –
Starkly contrasting one another;
Blending with the summer sun
And the cotton shirt,
With the frank, wide open eyes on the other side of the table
And the whiskey
Yet I am.
One with a tag. One with a name.
I’ll make you proud, Mother,
I’ll close my eyes and slit myself
So I never bleed again into the world
Or into its secrets.
Labels: That line between my brows
posted by De.vile at 11:51 AM
5 Comments:
but you are bleeding secrets, wonderfully written secrets, onto the page, and it's a damn good thing... at least for us.
i did miss you very much whilst you were away.
i missed you, too!
*smiles*
S.x
Blood spilt,
should be bottled,
and used as ink,
to pen,
the truth on paper.
I agree with liam, you are bleeding secrets and it is a good thing to read it.
It is said that good writing happens when you sit at the typewriter and metaphorically slit your wrists and write it down, every sensation.
peace
Devileeeee
where the fuck is Ashes?
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