rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com
Me.: Winter madness.
http://rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com/2009/12/winter-madness.html
Monday, December 7, 2009. The guitar gently mourns. Under the strain of her small. Fingers that tap-dance on it. You aren't too sure. Of how to close in. For the final attack. And then gently retreat. After scarring her insides. While she still plasters that big happy smile. And pretends that all is fine. And you sweat because you don't have time. Or the courage to stay. And puke out those words. That you do not want to say,. That you really do care. And then the draft of cold air. That take over my skin.
rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com
Me.: October 2009
http://rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com/2009_10_01_archive.html
And I am mourning the loss of a friend. Wednesday, October 28, 2009. Because i did not know that it would hurt me so. Because i had to say goodbye and let you go. Because angels break their wings and lose flight. Because good mornings were never exchanged when the sun was bright. Because you were ticklish and defended yourself with a poke. Because i have cried so hard that i could choke. Because my rhymes were never any good at all. Because i had to write this to cushion my fall. Monday, October 12, 2009.
rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com
Me.: June 2010
http://rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com/2010_06_01_archive.html
The Misuse of Rhyme. Monday, June 7, 2010. I want to sleep. But I'd rather make you weep. And read my messy rhyme. Because I want to kill time. Painlessly, while I am at it. Me back with it's best shot. While you stand there smoking pot. Laughing at my misery. Offering me a cup of tea. And tipping over the pot of milk,. Staining my expensive silk. But that is what you always do. So it wouldn't hurt if I were to. Put you through this painful ordeal. And make a sumptuous meal. Because you secretly grinned.
rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com
Me.: November 2009
http://rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com/2009_11_01_archive.html
Friday, November 20, 2009. All that is left behind. Is the faint trail of the song. That you played last night. To create a mood. That would make you feel good. About the scars that you painted. On the hands that held you so close. You, screaming like a mad man. Shrieked her lungs out. Ella Fitzgelard does to you. What fuel does to fire. And out of control. You, who wants her to. With her bleeding lips. Which you nibbled at, carelessly. To satiate that undying passion. And all that is left behind.
rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com
Me.: July 2009
http://rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com/2009_07_01_archive.html
Wednesday, July 29, 2009. Sometimes, i lose consciousness. And i see you slipping away. As i fall into the pool of colour drenching me. And snuffing life into me,. A charcoal sketch on a white canvas. And i look around. And i notice that i have limbs. I am human, perhaps,. But far from it. A song without words. Sitting a few light years away,. At the edge of reason. Ready to take the plunge. To give me company,. Smell the selfsame air of sweet nothingness. That makes its way. They seem so far away.
rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com
Me.: June 2009
http://rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com/2009_06_01_archive.html
Friday, June 26, 2009. Our rockstars have died,. And the mousse is gone. I shall wait for you right here. While you decide to move on. The last song still echoes in my head. But it keeps getting fainter, still,. With no MotherFucking kids in uniform. Making a riot with broken strings. This might very well be the worst thing that i have ever written. But i still had to do this. This is to one of my bestestest friends. You know who you are. Effing shit, i.am.like.this.only. Tuesday, June 23, 2009.
rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com
Me.
http://rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com/2010/04/if-only-you-could-see-that-i-am-cold.html
Monday, April 26, 2010. That I am cold again. Me dancing in the rain. And I'd give up forever to touch you. Cause I'd know that you'd feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I've ever been. And I don't want to go home right now. Effing shit, i.am.like.this.only. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Just another pretty poem. Clickity clicks with dabs of colours. A little bit more. I am really very dumb. i just pretend to be very intelligent. thank you, come again. View my complete profile.
rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com
Me.: April 2010
http://rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com/2010_04_01_archive.html
Monday, April 26, 2010. That I am cold again. Me dancing in the rain. And I'd give up forever to touch you. Cause I'd know that you'd feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I've ever been. And I don't want to go home right now. Effing shit, i.am.like.this.only. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Just another pretty poem. Clickity clicks with dabs of colours. A little bit more. I am really very dumb. i just pretend to be very intelligent. thank you, come again. View my complete profile.
rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com
Me.: March 2009
http://rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com/2009_03_01_archive.html
Sleepy head at work. Monday, March 23, 2009. I am those unsaid words stuck in your throat,. That voice of comfort during your times of fright. I am the gooseflesh you felt when a teardrop fell,. The warm wind that blew over you yesternight. I am not what you thought I would be. To you, I am more than a physical form. I am the flowers of spring,. The song on your strings,. The smile on your face when the day dawns. And I don't want the world to see me. Cause I don't think that they'd understand.
rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com
Me.: Wounds.
http://rantingmyarseoff.blogspot.com/2009/11/all-that-is-left-behind-is-faint-trail.html
Friday, November 20, 2009. All that is left behind. Is the faint trail of the song. That you played last night. To create a mood. That would make you feel good. About the scars that you painted. On the hands that held you so close. You, screaming like a mad man. Shrieked her lungs out. Ella Fitzgelard does to you. What fuel does to fire. And out of control. You, who wants her to. With her bleeding lips. Which you nibbled at, carelessly. To satiate that undying passion. And all that is left behind. This w...
