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god take me, because i hate me
december stayed the same, nothing ever changed but you
Created on 2005-06-28 19:06:39 (#7575460), last updated 2009-06-27
467 comments received, 459 comments posted
Plus Account [Gift]
72 Journal Entries, 0 Tags, 0 Memories, 20+ ScrapBook Files, 0 Virtual Gifts, 15 Userpics
Basic Info| Name: | kelly_eatworld |
|---|---|
| Birthdate: | 1985-11-29 |
| Website: | //myspace; |
BioThis is my second journal. One that my friends don't know about and I can post pics in or bitch about things I don't want them to know about and what have you. I'll be joining a lot of communities I think with this one.
Sidenote:I took my msn out of my user infoI just recently put it back in, feel free to add me, but please tell me who you are the first time you see me online, or else i will block you. The reason for this is because a lot of people having been adding me lately and either not saying anything or just asking if I have a webcam. The answer is yes I do, but I didn't sign up for msn so I could do shows on my webcam, I did it to talk to people, so if you're interested in talking to me, ask and I'll add you, if you only want to add me for my webcam, please don't.
at the center of the world
there's a statue of a girl.
she is standing near a well
with a bucket bare and dry.
i went and looked her in the eyes
and she turned me into sand.
this clumsy form that i despise
it scattered easy in her hand.
and came to rest upon a beach,
with a million others there.
we sat and waited for the sea
to stretch out so that we could disappear
into the endlessness of blue,
into the horror of the truth.
you see, we are far less than we knew.
yeah, we are far less than we knew
but we knew what we could taste.
girls found honey to drench our hands.
men cut marble to mark our graves.
said we'll need something to remind us of
all the sweetness that has passed through us
(fresh sangria and lemon tea).
the priests dressed children for a choir
(white-robed small voices praise him)
but found no joy in what was sung.
the funeral had begun
in the middle of the day
when you drive home to your place
from that job that makes you sleep
back to the thoughts that keep you awake
long after night has come to claim
any light that still remains
in the corner of the frame
that you put around her face.
two pills just weren't enough.
the alarm clock's going off
but you're not waking up.
this isn't happening, happening, happening,
happening, happening. it is.
Sidenote:
there's a statue of a girl.
she is standing near a well
with a bucket bare and dry.
i went and looked her in the eyes
and she turned me into sand.
this clumsy form that i despise
it scattered easy in her hand.
and came to rest upon a beach,
with a million others there.
we sat and waited for the sea
to stretch out so that we could disappear
into the endlessness of blue,
into the horror of the truth.
you see, we are far less than we knew.
yeah, we are far less than we knew
but we knew what we could taste.
girls found honey to drench our hands.
men cut marble to mark our graves.
said we'll need something to remind us of
all the sweetness that has passed through us
(fresh sangria and lemon tea).
the priests dressed children for a choir
(white-robed small voices praise him)
but found no joy in what was sung.
the funeral had begun
in the middle of the day
when you drive home to your place
from that job that makes you sleep
back to the thoughts that keep you awake
long after night has come to claim
any light that still remains
in the corner of the frame
that you put around her face.
two pills just weren't enough.
the alarm clock's going off
but you're not waking up.
this isn't happening, happening, happening,
happening, happening. it is.
ConnectInterests (28):
bbw, bi, bisexual, boys, bright eyes, bright things, cuddling, drinking, drugs, ducks, emo, girls, green, happy bunny, jimmy eat world, lesbian, love, lust, making out, mary jane, music, nugglin, nugglin under stars, shiny things, snuggles, stars, support, vodka
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