my-ruin's Diaryland Diary
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...my hands are still hot...
OH MY GOD!! The divine and ever dramatic Miss Tairrie B signed my guestbook! So click on LOST SOULS and seee fer yrself!
THANK YOU TAIRRIE!!!! BUT i feel like shit cos she looked at the most stupid posts (she didnt check out any of the lynn ones. i can understand that, but! she had that read that post about brian) She probably thinks im stupid or something. She read 2 of 'em. Maaaaaaaaaan!!! that sucks big balls. BUT just incase she comes back im gonna put a poem in here...yeah..thats what i'll do.
i wrote this one in highschool, 11th grade 1997-8ish. enjoi.
A black rose painted in a field of white, In a crowd but still so alone. I know the feeling all too well. It calls me-
the faint sound getting louder. This black rose and I are one. Alone, yet not. SCared and tired, the rose wilts In the field of white where it stands alone, waits alone, dies alone.
Untitled
I sit still inside my world of ice where not even a fire god could disturb me.
I sit still and notice every little icicle that hang from the sky too cold to melt even the slightest bit.
I sit still and i know the rain will never come the clouds are frosted over.
I sit, still with my eyes wide awake pondering my cold existence
I sit still at night and admire the beauty of the icy stars on the blackest of nights.
I sit still. Far too cold to move any muscle of my body that tried its hardest to pump warm blood.
I die. Sitting still head up, my green eyes up at the frozen sky and ice moon. I died. Cold, alone, still sitting. Dead, because I couldn't live.
1:46 pm - 12.13.01
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