Kissing the RainThe droplets trickle down the window pane, Like the tears of yesterday glistening on your pale skin. I press my lips to the cool glass, Made icy by the dawn of a new spring. And I remember the taste, The saline fear and pain on my lips, When I kissed it better.Kissing the Rain
The rhythmic beating of the rain haunts me now, Reminiscent of your aching heart once pressed against mine, Seeking shelter and comfort in the height of the storm. Before the skies cleared.
And freedom shone through the suffocating clouds
It's the little thingsShe casts analysing glances around the ensuite, Bare-footed and preparing for much needed sleep. Despite her best intentions, the un-emptied bin Screams unsanitary curses Clippings of nails scattered on its base In her mind, the hair draped over the shower head Is a garrotte And disturbing even more are the clots Of hair, victims of war, far from home, Lying dead in the corner of the shower tray.It's the little things
Steadying herself, she gazes into the sink, Knots of hair haunt her still, But now joined by dental floss twisting down the drain. As she struggles to feel like she&
Bored of the FamilyDon't let them see you cry, My mother told me, it's for this I deaden the concern, To leave when my eyes are drying, I am a fool with legs, colours, Clean until drying, and shining like scum on the rocks. The teacher removes this light from bare hands. And the children are whispering Behind the arms of a starfish. They play in the hot and sunny garden. But I stay here, like my mother told me. Beneath the window there is an aquarium, Some golden fish are always swimming around. They imitate their own reflections and continue to swim around. I dipped a finger in the wBored of the Family
The old man with the umbrellaThe old man with the umbrellaThe old man with the umbrella
I
On the cold walls, steps reverberate breaking the silence.
Slowly I raise my head, adapting my eyes to the dimmed light.
Shallow puddles cover the floor showing grey reflections, where the stranger walked in.
II
The old man discards his umbrella kneeling down, touching the black surface of the bench cushion.
Valleys of sorrow lay under his eyes, which show undispellable hurt. A grim smile of irony.
He folds his hands looking upwards. Upwards, w
1598 mush mush
Zweefvlieg.
| Quite an old pic, but it'll have to do for now! |
Plans
Exhilarated
YOU'VE BEEN HUGGED!
Spread the DA love around!
RULES:
1- You can hug the person who hugged you!
2- You -MUST- hug 6 other people, at least!
3- You should hug them in public! Paste it on their user page!
4- Random hugs are perfectly okay! (and sweet)
5- You should most definitely get started hugging right away!
Send This To All Your Friends, And Me If I Am one (you can copy and paste this message on their userpage!)
--
"Language is the picture and counterpart of thought." (Mark Hopkins)
Cé mhéad teangacha atá agat??
Ich habe mein Deutsch verloren! Pour mes examens en 2006, j'étudie le francais et l'allemange, mais apres ca, j'ai décidé d'étudie seulement le francais, pour les raisons que on a deja expliqué!
Et oui, j'ai msn, cependant j'essaie de pas passer trop de temps la, comme on doit utiliser son temps pour les études! (mais comme toujours, le projets comme ca ne vont pas comme je veux
--
Dr. Gregory House: I'm extremely disappointed. I send you out for exciting, new designer drugs, you come back with tomato sauce.
C'est dommage que tu oubliais l'allemagne.
C'est-à-dire que tu ne passeras pas moi ton msn?
(Pardonnez-moi pour les erreurs. xD)
--
"Language is the picture and counterpart of thought." (Mark Hopkins)
Is aobhainn liom an Fhionlainnis freisin!
"Puhukka hitaasti olka hyvaa!!"
Bien sur, un vrai dommage
Oui, je trouve que la francais devient plus facile que parler en gaelique! :/
Oh oui, je le t'envoie dans un petit mot
--
Dr. Gregory House: I'm extremely disappointed. I send you out for exciting, new designer drugs, you come back with tomato sauce.
Merci, ma Niamh.
Cette conversation était un pure plaisir, merci beaucoup.
--
"Language is the picture and counterpart of thought." (Mark Hopkins)
Previous Page12345...Next Page