| and everyone thinks shes on fire. |


unedited.i guess it's time to face this. well, i don't really want to but everything is everything and unedited scarlet roses are going to cut me soon.unedited.
so you were there, i think, and this bench we used to sit at was there, i think,
and this place we used to cry at was there, i think.
"she who really cried"
it was a show, a big fat show and disgrace, lies and truth fading like the moon behind a cloud. horrible and sleeping around was your heart- my emotions reflected upon your soul every second hour of the day.
i loved you, i think, it's a big batch of i-thinks and aval


surreal and misused"Who do you confide in if it's not me? Is there anyone to hear you?"surreal and misused
Ms. Used wept softly like whimper, like a growl.
"I confide in the crows,"
Sir Real said firmly his fists in his pockets like hard rocks,
"And the swallows who know where to go."
"But how do they know? How can you trust such
a lithe being with such impeccably small brains?"
She protests lightly, her fingers wavering in the air like cornrows, blowing in the breeze of night but underneath her skin she is brooding,
she is not important to him anymore.
"Ah, but brains, simply brains, they are


four and twentyShe split her lip on the couch as she fell,four and twenty
like a crow from a tree, with blood pouring from skin and pores and
her body limply hitting the wood panels of the floor.
The stereo played their favorite Smiths songs in the grass
as she curled up in his lap, like a kitten, like a cat. With a husky voice he said, "Go out for whiskey later, baby deer, okay?" It was all a blurry, lovely, sleepy, passion filled never ending night.
Her face turned up to his and her eyes cried out in pain
but her mouth stayed shut with
blood. She gurgled and spat and cried.
The p


OskarOskar? she writes, paper sails floating up and bringing her out to sea.Oskar
I'm okay, she scribbles, pen dribbling ink
like the baby she gave up to God and the holy gates of heaven
just ten days ago.
Oskar drives,
hands on the wheel and eyes darting, searching. Where did you go? he texts, fingers rippling like waves on the small handheld keys. With one hand
on the steering wheel he shuts his eyes for exactly one Mississippi, just enough to feel the rush but not enough to kill a man.
Her pocket buzzes as she jogs down the street  
thank you oh so much for the WATCH and fav (:
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Its a bit hard to love me when youre dead.
thank you so much for the watch, too.
[: it means so much to me.
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[link]
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Its a bit hard to love me when youre dead.
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( it'sgonnabealright )
thought it made more sense to watch this account instead of the other one twice... |D wonderful poetry
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[link]
Jarman <3
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You like my cha cha cha?
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[link]
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You like my cha cha cha?
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