

Untitled fear poemI am afraid that he will die and you won't call me. I am afraid that she will die and I will have to call you.Untitled fear poem
If you or I die, don't worry (you never do). We won't have to talk (I hope).


MyMyMy
In the end like you were once In The Beginning :bloated in the belly, curled up body pale, wet skin.
After, carried.


untitled summer 2008My body and soul was once a stream of pure light. As I've lived and experienced different things in my life, mud has been thrown on me and marred my purity. It's inevitable and not all bad. Experiences define who we become. They literally shape us, but it doesn't mean we can't do a little soul-cleaning, a little damage-control to keep ourselves clear-minded, unencumbered by our pasts and silly mistakes. Some people make the mistake of identifying their still-glowing entities as flaws in their mud-covered souls. They pull over more clay, no matter how much it cracks, to fix thesuntitled summer 2008
I miss you, but at least I hear from you now and then. Poor Stinna!
--
"Take me with a grain of salt."
I love the allusion.
Took me a while, but remembered The Outsiders!!
What is the link btw?
Also, I love The Outsiders... much more than anything of Robert Frost, except maybe the fences and neighbors poem.
Great picture, by the way.
School is important to me, too. Otherwise, I wouldn't be working to become a teacher!
Let me know if you join brickfish, and I'll be sure to support your entries, too.
I appreciate your support.
And thanks about the age thing... sometimes I feel kinda old... but I'm pretty happy with my life, even being old.
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