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Literature Text
I'm haunted
I'm haunted in my head
I'm haunted in my home
I'm haunted all the way back home
I see, I remember
That cuddle coach is dusty
My bed is full of tears
The bathroom has blood stain
And my mind has fears
I'm haunted by her words
I'm haunted by her voice
I'm haunted by her face
I wish I could say
The break-up was fine
we weren't meant for eachother
But for me, she was the one
I'm haunted by her
And she won't ever know
I'm haunted in my head
I'm haunted in my home
I'm haunted all the way back home
I see, I remember
That cuddle coach is dusty
My bed is full of tears
The bathroom has blood stain
And my mind has fears
I'm haunted by her words
I'm haunted by her voice
I'm haunted by her face
I wish I could say
The break-up was fine
we weren't meant for eachother
But for me, she was the one
I'm haunted by her
And she won't ever know
Literature
Remember the Angel?
Remember the angel that wiped your tears and made you brightly smile?
You always told her to let you be; you were always in denial.
Remember the angel that sang you to sleep and played with your hair?
You never cared to have her near you, though that smile was still there
Remember the angel that waited for you, the one who waited countless hours?
You never seemed to even notice, I guess that was your power
Remember the angel that saved your life, risking also her own?
You ran away and left her there, you left her there alone
Remember the angel that fell from heaven, only to be with you?
You marked her with your sin and made her feel
Literature
On my own apocalypse
If silk could melt
to drip down arms and goosebumped legs
in scarlet rivers, serpentine,
it seems only right
that the sky should burn as well.
Like roses heaped upon a stage,
cloaked in tumultuous applause,
the end will fall in exultation.
Shall we stand upon the shore
and taste the salt upon our lips,
basking in the last breezes
before the Breaking?
These last days are a ball,
a promenade of bliss,
sublime devastation,
a eulogy of memory.
Shiva, ever the gentleman,
asks for one last dance.
Literature
Prisoner
her dreams all broken loose.
Memories, unconfined,
escaped her past,
they roost now in the tangles
of her disordered present.
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I get flashbacks everywhere in my home but I have learned to handle them 
And two things, I choose that picture because I think that girl was beautifull as i think my ex is, and also that i do not get a clear picture of her anymore in my head, i get a ghosty looking one, like the picture
And I didn't draw this, This amazing artist did: [link]
I REALLY Suggest you check him out, he draws AMAZINGLY
And two things, I choose that picture because I think that girl was beautifull as i think my ex is, and also that i do not get a clear picture of her anymore in my head, i get a ghosty looking one, like the picture And I didn't draw this, This amazing artist did: [link]
I REALLY Suggest you check him out, he draws AMAZINGLY © 2012 - 2024 Meandor117
Comments90
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Sorry, long time no visit, just saw the letter, I agree with his picture. This thing is fine to play o (∩ _ ∩) o haha ~
Do not wish for everyone to cause distress or conflict
Do not wish for everyone to cause distress or conflict