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An Illusory State Of Mind
19 janvier 2015

Creep into my soul in disguise. I dream of a

Creep into my soul in disguise. I dream of a
Creep into my soul in disguise. I dream of a murky silhouette, a pale mind, a blurry voice. I dream of a ghost, that possesses your scent. Eyes closed, my nose digs the pillow and cries, as a deprived child. Your breath fills my chest, my room, yet you...
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19 janvier 2015

if i had a heart...

I don't know you at all, I just want to strip you off your layers and cleanse your wounds. If I had a heart I would dare to dream of your touch. If I had a heart I would dare to want your scent painted on my walls, on my cheekbones, on my neck, on my...
19 janvier 2015

i wish you stayed longer.."Z"

I had no idea one voice could make me so helplessly lost. I had no idea my eyes could be shy enough to look away at the sight of a devilish imperfection. Her voice fed my veins their origin, their poison and their catharsis. No harsher looks have ever...
19 janvier 2015

Aphrodisiac(My Word)

To my eyes, she was a cosmic inferno to which Gods stare with lustful eyes. Let me be the needle that slowly feeds your deepest fears, let me colour those wrists with holes of joy. Let me be the reflection upon your dark pupils as they go insanely wider....
19 janvier 2015

Unlimited Thoughts

I swore I would let it all out. Here I lay on the leftovers of the celebration of my life. Have I not loved so honestly, so strongly? Then why it is all gone so fast so easily? The party is over, and I am passed out on the floor. Among all of those things...
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19 janvier 2015

:) ...Scared of the Truth

Who wrote the Bible? Who wrote the Qur'an? And was it a lightning storm That gave birth to the earth And then dinosaurs were born ? Who made up words? who made up numbers?And what kind of spell is mankind under?Everything on the planet we preserve and...
19 janvier 2015

The Wisdom Of A Mirror...

The Wisdom Of A Mirror...
19 janvier 2015

"headline"

“Writing is like sex. First you do it for love, then you do it for your friends, and then you do it for money.” ― Virginia Woolf. I still do it for love.
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