MusicofWind

You're the one I feel most comfortable around; I never even have to make a sound. With all my flaws, my low self-esteem, when you talk to me, it's like a dream. Never walking pales in comparison to never seeing you again because you are my love; you are all I think of. Even when your mood swings, I would not think of changing things. My life is perfect when you are in it. So can we please just stop and sit? Sit and wait and be together because that is how I want to spend forever.

I can see with perfect clarity the true nature of who you want to be. It doesn't involve us but those so much "better", so I say, "Good riddens" and mean it down to the letter. Your superficial attitude has grown from then, and I lament that I ignored it time and again. But life is moving faster than ever; it is time for never to mean never. Sure, this might pass one day, but until then, I must say, "Stay away" because this enmity I feel is rising. It does not make for good tidings. I'm sick of all these problems: always being on the bottom of the list that marks your friends. I hate having to contend for nothing but empty pro

My words will flow from my fingers as though they were water in a river: never having not existed, but not being obvious until pointed out. The feelings I write will convey a message so grand, no one person could understand it. Everything put down will be a dream you have, even if you are not aware of it; a dream you love, one you want to have again. Nothing is out of my grasp. There is nothing I can't describe. I will write what I feel, what I see, what I want to. And my writing will scream to you like a thousand birds crying in happiness of daylight. And you will cry right along with them.

My eyes were glassy, glazed over. The people around me were talking, but I didn't hear a word. I'd gone into this state long before they could save me (if they could even tell). Nothing phased me anymore: not pain, not happiness, not anger. All emotions were drained and evaporated. They could no longer touch my brain; they were repelled before they even got there. I had given up on life, and there was nothing anyone could do. I felt him walk up to me before he'd even grabbed my shoulder. I flinched away and turned slowly, dreading who it was but knowing it all along. Since coming into this mentality, my perception of emotions and facial exp

The water was curiously clear for an outdoor fountain. The absence of bugs and dirt had me wondering if someone cleaned it every two hours. The light from the rising sun reflected off the falling water and into my eyes. I blinked to clear the spots and stared down at the rippling water. I realized in that moment that my life was decidedly mundane. Even water seemed more interesting. Of course, whenever I think one thing, it usually turns out on the opposite end of my expectations. And I was about to find out how exciting life could become. - The water I'd been watching suddenly tinted pink. At first, I thought it was coming from the sun,

If I could ride forever in the silent night, keeping the twinkling stars in my never ending sight, the night would be my stage with the city lights my props, and I would act forever until my time comes to a stop. My life would be perfection, with nothing to worry about, and I would be myself with no one there to pout. The moon would be my sister, the stars would be my friends, and I would dance beneath them until the nighttime comes to end. My feelings would be mine, and my vision would be clear, as I twirled and jumped and danced to prevent the coming fear. Because while I am quite happy, I am still quite alone; and whi

I used to think we were the best of friends, but then you started changin', thinking to yourself, it seemed: friendship's overrated. I used to think I could tell you anything, but then you started to push me away. After that first transgression, I didn't want to stay. I used to think you were the best, but now I've got to rethink. Would someone who was really a friend drive me to the brink? Who says things like "I don't care about you", or ignores their friends when by others? I used to think I could count you as a friend, but I'm starting to think you'd rather be another's. And it's getting me down this abrupt preference cha

Tear the painting down, scatter the pieces on the floor; this friendship we had is over. I just don't care anymore. Your sincerity is revolting because you really are just lying. The time for caring is gone because my concern for you is dying. What we had was painted thin, would never last very long. It was only a matter of time till the ending of this song. For once I'm glad to leave, to be rid of you. I've given up once before, so I can do it to you, too. You brought this on yourself, so don't bother getting mad because really, either way, without you I'll be glad. So why don't you try for redemption; I might just overl

Twelve roses were given, twelve accepted. The parting message: "I'll love you 'till the last one dies." Six days passed, six flowers down. Still the message was: "'Till the last one dies." Five more days and five more flowers. One still stood in the lone vase. On the last day, one rose was returned- wilted and dry. The message was answered: "I guess... our love has ended." The rose given back was not the one received. In that lone vase grew an everlasting rose; a plastic representation of their love. The pain of love faked is more than giving up the one you love.

A flash of red-blue lights, and a high-pitched wail. Those were the first signs. The woman pulled over slowly, already in hysterics and crying her eyes out. The cop opened his door, got out, and walked leisurely toward the sky blue car. *~*~*~* Snow fell from the heavens: little angels floating down to cover the Earth with white. Her eyes followed their path as she sped through the city. A shadow flickered in and out in the passenger seat, but to her, it was as clear as day. "Driving won't take away your troubles. Sooner or later you will have to return." Her wild eyes turned to the ghost. 'It occupies my mind' The shadow seemed to read