Accept Him.

Sadly, this is not the creepiest thing I've doodled.

Not by a long shot.

      Maybe I should start saving files as .png's

Mo' money Mo' photos.

If polaroid film wasn't so gosh darn expensive, I'd be one of those guys who take pictures of everything.

Even bad men love their mothers.

Something I drew awhile ago.

Thought you might enjoy this

(you= no one apparently)

Don't you (no one) go breaking his heart.

Cause he'll break your (no ones) penis..

your (nobodies) PENIS!

Semantics

She asked to be soft like winter mornings
And letting the seasons drip from her lips
She sipped a kiss from the things she missed
She is forever full of memories

She bleeds lullabies from my childhood
And her hands might have once held mine in a past life
For they fit, like
Weddings by the swing-set under sunset at recess
She's the rock that's dropped at hopscotch
The rumor of Pepsi and pop rocks
You are forever full of memories

The splattered ice cream in gum speckled play grounds
The spilled milk she constantly tells herself not to cry over
She is the sound of velcro
She is the smell of play-dough
She is gasoline in puddles resembling graffiti rainbows
She is forever full of memories

She is the note that was passed in class
The midnight pebbles thrown against our windows glass
Summers spent picking blades of grass and
Chewing on cattail like we seen in the movie once

Her kiss is like screaming in reverse - only sweeter
Lips like two pink needles injecting that infecting
"I need her"

photography: http://ykcul701.deviantart.com/

Post Script

I used to watch the sunset

Picking flowers for now ex lovers

Discarded letters like petals

She loves me. She loves me not

I used to bottle our heartbeats like fireflies

Playing them back on those quiet days

where sun meets horizon

You used to offer me your lips

As if there was more to it than just a kiss

As if those Jigsaw hips weren't just

Designed to intertwine with these forlorn fingertips

And I wonder...

Where have you been?

photography: http://thillyliv.deviantart.com/ 

Clipped

We are callused crows

Perched upon our words like telephone wire

Yea we have company..

But we all sing the blues

We are in a race with the junkyard for we go

south for the winter

north for the summer

and in between we hum the saddest songs..

We shed our lead feathers

In midnight parking lots and splintered benches

and sometimes

Sometimes we dream.

Our life in fast forward consists of 

Flickering strobe lights of streetlights

Midnight train traveled street fights

And we become tired

   And our wings grow heavy

 Until eventually

   

We don't feel like flying anymore