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All the words she never spoke

All the words she never spoke. The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long. Wednesday, April 30, 2008. The unexpected, possibly disturbing blog post. Sometimes the blackness comes. And all we want to do. Is dig deeply into it. Don't want to see the sun,. Just want to get lost in darkness. Sometimes it's just too hard to live. The will is gone. Lie with hands stretched out. Nothing to grasp onto. Will anyone see into the hole. Find a way into the tunnel. Where you are buried? But can't quite find.

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All the words she never spoke | crimson007.blogspot.com Reviews

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All the words she never spoke. The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long. Wednesday, April 30, 2008. The unexpected, possibly disturbing blog post. Sometimes the blackness comes. And all we want to do. Is dig deeply into it. Don't want to see the sun,. Just want to get lost in darkness. Sometimes it's just too hard to live. The will is gone. Lie with hands stretched out. Nothing to grasp onto. Will anyone see into the hole. Find a way into the tunnel. Where you are buried? But can't quite find.

<META> KEYWORDS

1 skip to main

2 skip to sidebar

3 hear the sparrows

4 the end

5 the darkness

6 finding only walls

7 there's nobody home

8 people laughing

9 living

10 somewhere

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skip to main,skip to sidebar,hear the sparrows,the end,the darkness,finding only walls,there's nobody home,people laughing,living,somewhere,it fades away,and silence remains,so loud,it's deafening,writing crappy poetry,so you stop,and once again,posted by

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All the words she never spoke | crimson007.blogspot.com Reviews

https://crimson007.blogspot.com

All the words she never spoke. The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long. Wednesday, April 30, 2008. The unexpected, possibly disturbing blog post. Sometimes the blackness comes. And all we want to do. Is dig deeply into it. Don't want to see the sun,. Just want to get lost in darkness. Sometimes it's just too hard to live. The will is gone. Lie with hands stretched out. Nothing to grasp onto. Will anyone see into the hole. Find a way into the tunnel. Where you are buried? But can't quite find.

INTERNAL PAGES

crimson007.blogspot.com

1

All the words she never spoke

http://www.crimson007.blogspot.com/2007/02/i-have-f-l-l-e-n-i-n-t-o-passion-that.html

All the words she never spoke. The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long. Friday, February 23, 2007. That is the closest explanation. For what I feel for you. But so much more. There are few things. That I am truly. Are one of them. Un r a v e l…. Are my daily diet. A slow but steady drip…. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Blogroll some of the blogs I enjoy reading. Word Thugs Literary Rag. Chris Pimental train wreck chronicles. Sometimes its best to be concise. Fuck you. I thi.

2

All the words she never spoke: Futility

http://www.crimson007.blogspot.com/2007/03/futility.html

All the words she never spoke. The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long. Saturday, March 10, 2007. If words were enough. Motionless they would be too small. I can never reach you. My essence washed away in morning light. I will never penetrate your. The map to your heart. Is penned with phantom ink. All that lies before me. Your memory permanently stained. With thoughts of her. Never to be erased. Your eyes are dull. With the disease of longing. As you slowly waste away. My tears alone could.

3

All the words she never spoke: diagnosis:betrayal

http://www.crimson007.blogspot.com/2007/03/diagnosisbetrayal.html

All the words she never spoke. The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long. Thursday, March 8, 2007. It isn't right to play. When you don't have the degree. To back up the advice. Which you carelessly toss out. Your experience doesn't make. Your circumstances don't fit. I am not some psychological experiment. Not shedding skin for you. Pulling armor and sweater tightly. Getting off this couch you've. Laid me out on. Our 50 minute hour. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Word Thugs Literary Rag.

4

All the words she never spoke: Trying something different

http://www.crimson007.blogspot.com/2007/02/trying-something-different.html

All the words she never spoke. The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long. Saturday, February 24, 2007. I LOVE the idea of letters. maybe I'll steal, uh, I mean borrow it for my own blog. March 1, 2007 at 12:07 AM. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Blogroll some of the blogs I enjoy reading. Word Thugs Literary Rag. Chris Pimental train wreck chronicles. Sometimes its best to be concise. Fuck you. I thi. I have f a l l e n i n t o passion . The Wind in Me. Words unspoken.part one.

5

All the words she never spoke

http://www.crimson007.blogspot.com/2007/03/black-is-night-cold-is-day-heart-of.html

All the words she never spoke. The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long. Saturday, March 3, 2007. Black is the night. Cold is the day. No hope in sight. Not here nor there. Ancient voices call her name. Long walk of shame. Walk away from the light. Never as bright as that star in the sky. Painfully give up the fight. It's a gray day and a black night. Nothing left to invest. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Blogroll some of the blogs I enjoy reading. Word Thugs Literary Rag.

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sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com

Sorrow's Native Daughter: Self Addressed Envelope.

http://sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com/2015/03/self-addressed-envelope.html

A journey into the depths of my subconscious, brought to the fore of consciousness. babble? Probably, that is why we have dreams and nightmares. "From my heart a single tear hangs low." (The Raven). Because you loved me. Snapping her hand writing wrongs. When said and done. Because you loved me. She is still poetry. Twelve years to spill spit and. A letter to one's self. 169; 2014 Aug 18th - Michaela James. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). I am Sympathy's Symphony™. View my complete profile.

sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com

Sorrow's Native Daughter: Northern comedy at it's dirtiest & finest! :)

http://sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com/2015/03/northern-comedy-at-its-dirtiest-finest.html

A journey into the depths of my subconscious, brought to the fore of consciousness. babble? Probably, that is why we have dreams and nightmares. "From my heart a single tear hangs low." (The Raven). Northern comedy at it's dirtiest and finest! Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). I am Sympathy's Symphony™. Darwen and manchester, lancashire, United Kingdom. View my complete profile. Northern comedy at its dirtiest and finest! Some of my favourite places. Http:/ www.iwawoman.blogspot.com/.

sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com

Sorrow's Native Daughter: March 2015

http://sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com/2015_03_01_archive.html

A journey into the depths of my subconscious, brought to the fore of consciousness. babble? Probably, that is why we have dreams and nightmares. "From my heart a single tear hangs low." (The Raven). Northern comedy at it's dirtiest and finest! Sentiment hanging, threads. Her very words that laid me bare. 169; 2014 Michaela James. 169; 2014 Aug 18th - Michaela James. The alcoholic sip of air. Immerses the pain,. Rage ripples the iris. Takes hold of my tears. Rips apart the joy of life washed in sin.

sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com

Sorrow's Native Daughter: January 2009

http://sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com/2009_01_01_archive.html

A journey into the depths of my subconscious, brought to the fore of consciousness. babble? Probably, that is why we have dreams and nightmares. "From my heart a single tear hangs low." (The Raven). I watch the glass ease. So easily half empty. Of happiness, mocking. As the second hand floats. Slowly by stuttering at twelve,. The consequence of who I am. The solitary figure fatigued,. Twenty yarns ago unheard. Desert my sodden sleeve. Run faster than every human. Being I have touched.

sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com

Sorrow's Native Daughter: 40.

http://sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com/2009/10/40.html

A journey into the depths of my subconscious, brought to the fore of consciousness. babble? Probably, that is why we have dreams and nightmares. "From my heart a single tear hangs low." (The Raven). Photographs strobe beneath lids. Echo from one year to the next,. And the not so white,. Torn by rigid belief. Of the kaleidoscope collide. 169; 2009 Michaela James. Hi, Mike. Welcome to middle age. Saw your picture on WDW. 7 February 2010 at 13:43. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile.

sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com

Sorrow's Native Daughter: September 2009

http://sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com/2009_09_01_archive.html

A journey into the depths of my subconscious, brought to the fore of consciousness. babble? Probably, that is why we have dreams and nightmares. "From my heart a single tear hangs low." (The Raven). Aching miles of golden grain whisper:. 8216;We are your malice. And you will be mine,. The flame of desire quivering. Within your palms clutching. The edge of reason,. Severed by your homeland,. Poorer for all you know is lost. The four winds howling in unison. Mock your majestic mind,. Untitled - Charcoal Sky.

sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com

Sorrow's Native Daughter: Future Past.

http://sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com/2015/03/future-past.html

A journey into the depths of my subconscious, brought to the fore of consciousness. babble? Probably, that is why we have dreams and nightmares. "From my heart a single tear hangs low." (The Raven). 169; 2014 Aug 18th - Michaela James. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). I am Sympathy's Symphony™. Darwen and manchester, lancashire, United Kingdom. View my complete profile. Northern comedy at its dirtiest and finest! Some of my favourite places. Http:/ www.iwawoman.blogspot.com/.

sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com

Sorrow's Native Daughter: June 2008

http://sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html

A journey into the depths of my subconscious, brought to the fore of consciousness. babble? Probably, that is why we have dreams and nightmares. "From my heart a single tear hangs low." (The Raven). So my shadow won't scare me. So I can never hold onto the past. So I may hear silence eternal. For they shall utter no more. Tales of abandoned truth. Wrap my lungs in clouds of smoke. So the air I exhale chokes. Carve my flesh with the quill. So my pores bleed empty. Pluck my heart with the blade.

sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com

Sorrow's Native Daughter: February 2015

http://sympathyssymphony.blogspot.com/2015_02_01_archive.html

A journey into the depths of my subconscious, brought to the fore of consciousness. babble? Probably, that is why we have dreams and nightmares. "From my heart a single tear hangs low." (The Raven). Blur the edges,. The canvass of carnage. One eye open,. Watch death patiently pace. I fall thro' the keyhole. Of indifference, maybe. It's better to go. Than wake the wanton wanderings. Of my vacant heart. The bed of nails aches. For my penance,. The genius of sorrow. By the shatter of what was left behind.

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All the words she never spoke

All the words she never spoke. The ecstasy is so short but the forgetting is so long. Wednesday, April 30, 2008. The unexpected, possibly disturbing blog post. Sometimes the blackness comes. And all we want to do. Is dig deeply into it. Don't want to see the sun,. Just want to get lost in darkness. Sometimes it's just too hard to live. The will is gone. Lie with hands stretched out. Nothing to grasp onto. Will anyone see into the hole. Find a way into the tunnel. Where you are buried? But can't quite find.

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