Tuesday, December 22, 2009


"And so I went through the looking glass, stepped into the netherworld, where up is down and food is greed, where convex mirrors cover the walls, where death is honor and flesh is weak. It is ever so easy to go. Harder to find your way back..."
By Marya Hornbacher
She could not have said it better...

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Call me Rainbowlips

Taste beyond my skin. Dare to love every part of me. You can not. You will never. Just let me in! Let me be a part of you the way i was once a part of another! I am wholly myself and only me because i have no part of you, and you will take no part of me. There is more to life then this race, this jump into responsibility and lost causes. There is no life where you are walking, running. There there is only rocks, though solid and securely held to the ground they are dry and lifeless. I do not wish to be among rocks and stones. I wish to be among the living, the truly living. Gather up your possessions and give me a tiny piece of you that i can say that i know and i will show you the way. I know a path, though it holds old value for me for i have been there many times before i will take you to it now. It is my place and place at once of piece and chaos. It is Life it is Breath, It is Water, it is Air, it is Religion, It is Passion, It is Love. Love that can swallow you up if you will let it...

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

HA Cheat!

To say the least, I have decided to protest.
I haven't narrowed it down yet
but I need more reactionaries!
I am recruiting.
Join the Absent Army!
You right there yes you!
Did you know there is a war going on?
Did you know that you have been lied to ever day of your life by filthy rich demigods on your magic telli?
Yes it's true...
SO prey that you don't let them Right out the story in their words.
Who are they? You ask.
The man in the suit telling jokes in the news room.
The woman in the dress yelling about the terror that she knows we supply.
I don't want a new generation of picket fences, nor do I want picketers.
I want the New militia, I want a revolution from a crumbling joke of a democracy to something with Truth as a foundation.
We are not equal and but we are free, and Though we can never have both.
I will use my freedom and do somefucking things about it.
It's easy. CLick the red button baby.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

I love you.
I miss you.
I do not like being away from you.
You give me the only reason to stay where you are.
I want to pack you in my suitcase, my only necessity.
Love is no good for creativity.
I'm far too happy for poetry writing.
I do not care if it is impossible for you to always be happy.
I make it my life goal to make you happy at all times.
You hear that?
My life goal.
I'm going to come home.
Home to you.
No more airplanes.
Je t'aime, but you're crazy love.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Tiny Teardrop

Oh tiny teardrop
Please don't forget where you came from
Tiny teardrop
Please don't forget where you sprang from

Oh tiny teardrop
You find your own way to break free
Tiny teardrop
How did you slip away from me?

Whether born of hate, jealousy, or spite
Whether you sprang from happiness, or feelings so bright

Please don't break free in front of him
And don't let her see something's wrong with me
If they see you show your sparkling dress
They might come take you across the sea

Do not wander too far away from my heart
You aren't allowed to go into the world just yet
It is not your time to shine
It is not your time to share it

Oh Tiny Teardrop

Please, don't yet

Tiny Teardrop

Don't tell them my secret

Monday, September 28, 2009

lite up your cigarette and give me a smile

angel of mine, oh sinner of mine.

lite up your cigarette and give me your arm

it's too cold outside, arch angel of mine

lite up your cigarette don't dare let me try

oh guard dog of mine, oh sinner of mine.

watch the smoke curl up and over again so fearful and curious

i wish i was it.

lite up you cigarette and send up my prayers

i don't know who they go to but they are all yours.

Lite up your cigarette and listen my dear,

can you hear them wisper of the air around our heads.

Oh my dear, it see the light in you eyes.

Oh my dear, it can feel the lightness of care.

Oh my dear... i am telling a story and it's all about sitting and feeling like things just might

change but i will have you my dear, my angel my sinner my dream and my dreamer

sit with me dont' write about me don't tell about me

just sit with me and talk with me if you ahppen to make me laugh

oh my dear it see us the smoke as it flies even farhter becoming the rest of the sky

can you see it my love my angel my sinner can you see it and breathe it.

I'm cold my dear, don't go my dear, not ever.

Just sit here and talk with me and i'll make you laugh if i can.

For Future Referance I didn't Write This. I Am Not Quite That Awesome.

A man is the history of his breaths and thoughts, acts, atoms and wounds, love,

indifference and dislike; also of his race and nation, the soil that fed him and his

forebears, the stones and sands of his familiar places, long-silenced battles and

struggles of conscience, of the smiles of girls and the slow utterance of old

women, of accidents and the gradual action of inexorable law, of all this and

something else too, a single flame which in every way obeys the laws that

pertain to Fire itself, and yet is lit and put out from one moment to the next, and

can never be relumed in the whole waste of time to come.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Life and death

Alex Grey

You are selfish. If you do not wish to share your works and if you truly wish to fine someone 150,000 dollars for downloading your beautiful works off of google without any knowledge of the copyright laws then you are a phony. Your art almost preaches to the souls of so many who have been on that trip as you have taken it and yet you are not even willing to come to the realization that once you have created something, image, music, video, it is no longer yours! yes you have the right that your work does not get stolen, but once it is on the world wide web, why punish those who are lucky enough to have seen your visions as you have. Sharing is Caring mister Grey. I for one am a fan of your work. I would enjoy it as inspiration if you wouldn't fine me for doing so. Guess what mister Grey. you can't stop it. it's in the very threads that float around my fingers for me to pluck and weave how ever i see fit. Watch me and maybe someday you can have a piece of mine to download. I would never fine you, nor any one else.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

This is not to be born

I cannot reach out and touch you
when i don't know if you will touch back.
I cannot kiss your forehead
if i don't know if you feel it as fire or ice.
I wish i could use a different word.
It doesn't sound fierce enough.
Fierce and deadly.
Slippery slopes.
Calm the waters.
Bring me back a sea horse if you ever leave for the sea.

This is not to be born.
A long time ago in a land far away was a dream and a dreamer.
The dream was alive, the dreamer was not.
The dream was a new kind of love.
Dreamer looked off and watched the dream as she danced
Dreamer wished for the world of the dream.
She twirled and the sun rose from the east.

This is not to be born.
The dreamer did not know that he was the dream's dream and
she the dreamer.
The sun rose as he walked with her talking and watching over her.
The sun set with him in her arms.

This is not to be born.
Knowing you will be caused pain
is not the same as inflicting it upon yourself.
Thank-god for i should have broken my own heart infinitely so.
Asking for one moment and one here to live in is selfish,
but accepting to live here for just that moment in that moment is the world.

This is not to be born.
I am now offered the world and the world's moments.
I am offered to live free and in love.
Freedom of thought is so misleading.
I am free to think as much and of what i want.
Freedom to love is something no one can take away from you but yourself.
Freedom to love can only be granted by you as well.
I wish i could teach love.
its so much simpler.
But its not simple when you wont let it happen.

This is not to be born.
You watch him sleep.
You want him to stay.
You shy from the sound of the words,
but hun they are so loud.
They scream at me!
Open!! They cry please just open!
It doesn't matter to us if it's not held...
Please, love cries, open...

It is not to be born
that we love not one another.
It is not to be born
that we strive to bring pain.
It is not to be born
that we gain new fathers and mothers.
It is not to be born that we are new from ourselves.
But when you love...

You must love as though wilt.
Never backward,
Never forward.
Love is the cool sea between.
Take a trip to the ocean,
but bring me back a sea-horse.

Friday, August 28, 2009

I worry.
I have to.
I have to care.
I have to think about the near future and what i will and will not have.
I have to worry when I'm scared for my family and for myself.
I have to worry.
I have to care.
I have to.
That is not my fault.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009


I once saw the world through my fingertips...

I saw how life should be lived...

And so when all the world went black...

I could then see.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

I am hopping that by the time i am 22 i will be old enough to decide which autumn i would rather be. I don't believe i will become any less of a person if i cry my self to sleep. I don't know who i am but i have a pretty firm grip on who i have chosen the world to be. It makes me wonder sometimes if i am somehow a super hero. To be the one fish in the sea that is in actuality a shark. I am hoping that by the time i am 22 i will know what truth is. I want to be able to say "when we first met". I want to know right now that i will never change my mind. I am hoping that by the time i am 22 i will still know you. When i turn 22 tell me that you love me? Tell the truth because by then i will know. Thank you for the fireworks. I am hoping that when i am 22 i will be with you for the 4th of july and we will watch the fireworks and i wont think there is something wrong. I am hoping that you wont change your mind between now and then. I am hoping that i will be able to ask you if the sky is still blue if the sea is still vast and if the sun still shines, i will be able to ask you to tell me you love me and you will say yes; you wont be lying.

Friday, August 21, 2009

little drops of rain

It was like being held in someone's hand, but they were running so it was like being thrown around.
Every light had a million more and they all blinked and chased after one another. They had tails of light that wiped around and danced along with them.

There was a Ferris wheel that had a face blinking in lights and then the
one face became three faces that spun and spun and wound around and around.

There was laughter but it was under water somewhere far away.
The music was tinkling and dinging,
Da dada da dada dadingding tingaling dada.

Smells everywhere so alien.
Sweet smelling and loud smelling and too full smelling.

Then voices. They were obviously speaking a different language.

Something from a world where clocks are open and you can see the gears working to catch up with time. Time didn't belong here. Time is much too fast for a place like this.

"A Nuf Esouh! Dluow uoy ekil ot nioj em!"
Pink and green carpet was all over; mirrors moved from the inside. They breathed. Judged. This is not a house.

The world started to breathe deeper. It was compressing.
Making things look smaller; making things farther away.

Making the music sink deeper down into the water.

Goodbye music.

We left the circus.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Agust 17th 2009

He is away from me for the first time in about eight days. This needing of a specific someone is the part I don't appreciate. Things are too easy for my own liking at the moment. I used to think about the bomb of black that will eventually come and erase the light from my days again, as it has so many times before. When is it going to strike, and am I ready this time? You're never ready. It's always the thing you least expect to hurt. This ice cube in my chest separating my ribs from one another was meant to have left years ago...It remains. It is a rock. The rock is sprouting a small leaf. I hope it becomes a fern. I will not take it from its self. When I was a kid life was bright. Bright and full of everything I figured I dreamed as a fetus in the womb. Sure there are pieces missing from the times I would rather not remember, but as a whole my life was wonderful. It all came crashing down. I felt it compressing. I felt it start to throb and the reinforcing walls began to bend inward as if I was the black hole swallowing the world that was all of life as I knew it. For a while I felt like I had just made a lapse in judgment and that because of a wrong answer I had given at the dinner table, that my father had left for good and my mother had decided to become someone else. I saw my father cry more and my mother soften less, I decided that the logical explanation was the new place we had moved was a bad place. Unfortunately our next move was lacking in one important ingredient. My dad.

I will admit he makes my world a little brighter. Though I have had trouble being able to see it. Because of course I am always feeling a complication of emotion. So you see....okay I am about to ramble. It won’t sound as concise as Raina's words and it won’t sound quite as deep and meaningful as Lauren's works, but it's the truth or something like it.

I love you, so ha!
I like it when you rant and
I secretly like it when you scream risqué shit at people out your car window.
I can't talk to anyone else really and I am working on trying to talk to you about anything I need
You know so much and you are so steadfast in what you believe, not bias exactly but stronger in your stand than I ever am.
I love your nervous habits except for when you bite your nails...
I am a fucking hypocrite, but that's okay because you are too.
You make me laugh more than anyone in the world.
I really don't have a clue what I'm laughing at because you usually are not that funny.
I really shouldn't post this, but it's a little too late since I already told you.
You are my favorite of all the peppers in the world.
No one has ever brought me flowers before and you picked my favorite ones.
No one has ever felt I deserved less pain then I have had.
No one has ever made it so hard to stop myself from being stupid.
No offense but in my mind I shouldn't trust anyone.
No, not even you.
But I do. I trust you more than I trust me.
No one has ever gone so far out of their way to make me happy in the simplest ways...
I don't want to say this but you made me cry on my secret 4th of July.
I'm scared that I'm not right again and I'm scared that somehow I may not measure up.
I'm afraid of a lot of things actually.
I would move the world for you, if I could that is.
Which is silly...
because I shouldn't miss you from one day to the next,
since I have only known you for a wHile.
I shouldn't be wasting time writing about my girly feelings,
and about how Oh-So-Sexy-My-Love is.
But the truth is that I don't have anything to offer the world really
except my interpretations.
Not much to add the all the wonders of the universe, the progression of life.
Only bullshit HAHAHAHA
Basically anything that comes to mind.
it's just been you.
You're my writers block.
I'm far too happy to be an artist and it’s your entire fucking fault.
Besides, you have the perfect smile...and ...other perfect things!!!!!!! ;) ;)
What makes you think you will ever get away!
(I hope you can read my sarcasm.)
I tried to be honest,

I really did,

but I’m just too busy fighting crime.

P.S. I love you. You make me happy. I trust you.

I want you, all of you, just you.


It's too hard to admit that I never want to lose you because I'm not supposed to want that and it's dumb, and It scares me that it is so important that you know that.

My Dearest Rain ♥

I have yet to complete a single full letter to you, so my news will reach you over the world wide web. I am terrified to know whether you are in the world of the here and now or the world of strife so great it cannot even be named. I fear for you. You are living in that blue world. No longer your own, but a shell of the girl you once were. You fear love! You even fear the interpretation of love itself. Lost in a sea of everyone pressing and pressing and pressing on you for your own love to be crushed out into answers in haste. You are afraid because you need to empty it all from your cupboard of a heart, but you don't have time to sit and open it. My lovely Rain....When will you see that it is all a loss. Non of the pretty little things of life matter if you don't have the pieces to string up all the sparkly infinitesimal stars under the blanket of black. That deep darkness, blackness that slithers into you suffocating you and giving you a new form of oxygen! Seeming like a gift! A gift of self loathing in a wrapping paper all covered in selfishness! The stars...Rain, the stars...The smallest of moments that glows small like a dying ember. But there are millions of moments and millions of stars and so there are millions of embers! If you keep the string and string up all your stars and gather all the embers you have a black sky tattered! Rattled with the dazzling light that you have created! With nothing more than the thinking back and the hoping forward to when all those little embers will be a roaring raging fire and you can say you love as thou wilt. Don't lose the sting of regret, the pain of lost love, the delirium of indecisive thoughts, only let them be a reminder that you are here and you are now. You are one of my stars in the blackness, so brilliant.

It is a sad thing to follow blindly something you love. Yet that is what makes it so sweet...so exciting! The risk. The only risk of living is death. Don't say you are not afraid. What do you fear in trying to become something you wish! what is it that scares you so much from becoming who you are! Becoming is the closest action to raw existence that can be observed. Faith is an interesting parasite. History give example of women and men being pulled apart by horses for faith, for love. Mothers killing their own children rather than give them up. Fathers fighting their own sons and brothers for a piece of glory. No matter how many times we read and watch and know that death has followed the faithful, the reverent, the blind, we each of us has our faith. We fall in love, pray, study and worship. It becomes us. It becomes and exists.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

My last three blogs have been rather depressing. My apologies. I think that it would do my worlds of good to showcase that there are actual people behind the pretty butterfly picture at the top and that we do actually have lives.
Last night I didn't sleep for I had an amazing inspiration to actually sketch a real person. Unfortunately for me, it was five a.m. and there were, obviously, less than crowds of people to sketch. So I went through my old old old phone that is in the depths of my room and sketched everyone I could muster the talent to draw. I then proceeded to fall asleep at about ten in the A M. I woke up to find my father standing over my little nest in the living room, with a slitghtly amused look upon his face.
"Are you a cat?" He asked.
"No. I'm a no sleep."
"What is that?"
"I meant I got no sleep."
"Oh I see.Were you trying to reproduce your friends and lover in a new black realm?"
"No. I was trying to reproduce my friends so that i could have a conversation with the lot of them, but they were all too tired."
I got up to look in the mirror. I had black lines of charcoal on my face like cat whiskers and my hands were covered in black. I had black on my shirt and black on my pants. My lover walked in he door.
" You drew me?"
*thank you*
*i love you*

Monday, July 27, 2009


CaliasiaBella, her mother calls her beautiful flower.
She has the beauty to turn heads and yet she is simple.
Queen Anne's lace and olive trees surround her room, her small simple room in a villa in Italy.
She dreamt of being wed and of chocolate.
The smell followed her on the wind and throughout the trees when she walked.
It was the smell, the desire of chocolate and warmth.
The kinds of delicious treats that melt in the sun.
She wasn't frail, Calisbella, but she was not invulnerable.
She was weaker than she believed.
She needed a very strong guardian angel to protect her for on her journeys she would live as strong as she believed possible
Every day she lived in search of something, maybe it was the chocolate.
The world around her was so slight in its beauty and yet she knew what she was looking at.
She always saw the immaculate beauty no matter how small or insignificant.
So she took her time looking for whatever it was she was meant to find.
Because she understood all things beautiful she always exuded that beauty to others.
She tried her best to show what she saw and imagined to her friends...they never saw.
Chocolate was such a different thing to her.
She would laugh because chocolate's beauty her friends understood.
She felt superior at times because of what she felt above others...so she would lower herself.
Praying and finding things that others were better at.
She would never be as beautiful as the other women in the villa.
She always believed she was less than others.
Then she found it.
And she was a princess, a goddess, an angel and it was what she had that no one else in the world was better at, more beautiful to, more perfect.
She basked in the sun melting all the chocolate.
Then the wind blew and the smell was still in the air.
It wasn't chocolate.
It wasn't the olives.
It was her angel.
That night the sky was lit in an eternal show just for her and her angel.
The earth shook and the trees fell.
Everything fell.
She should never have found her angel, he told her he was glad she had, but she should have never found her angel.
Then the angels fell.
And as the sun vaulted over the vineyards and fallen trees it seemed as if nothing had ever occurred.
It seemed as if the angels were still flying in their heaven.
But there were non.
There was no smell of chocolate on the sir, merely smoke and fire.
Not a single olive tree stood tall.
The villa though crumpled was bringing itself back together.
Beauty would be found soon.
Even as she was lifted and carried to her only bed now and forever,
with her angel,
for they could not separate the angels bodies,
still shown the beauty surrounding her.
The beauty of dust and tar,
and fire and death.
her eyes shown only for her angel.
She glowed.
Much much more beautiful than the others.
CaliasiaBella smelled of chocolate.


by: autumn

for: Roselie

Monday, July 20, 2009

My best friend thinks she is fat. My best friend just broke up with the love of her life. My best friend is trying to play games with life.

My best friend is said to not make a good wife in the future. My best friend would make a wonderful wife. My best friend is blinded by lust. he happily ever after is being ground into dust.

My best friend doesn't know how to be a best friend. My best friend is dependent on others. My best friend is a wonderful best friend, if my best friend would let go of selfishness.

My best friend is a misinformer. My best friend is too intense for life. My best friend is self centerd with a hint of low self esteem and deeply lodged issues that were self manifested. My best friend can only see my best friend in the looking glass.

Stop starring at yourself or you will become an alien. You need to give up. You need to say sorry. you know you are better and more than you say. I think you are beautiful every way.
Don't make faces or your face will
freeze that way.
Stop sitting there wth your legs open on the castle steps it's unlady like, and pick up your glass slipper there isn't anyone worthy to pick it up for you, not yet.
Give it a minute.
Stop wishing and feeling sorry stop attempting to have control over the universe, I love you, sweetheart, and you are very strong, but it's not yours to
even nudge gently in your direction.
Stop being crass and turn your mirror into a window. See how pretty the glow of love is towards you? You have your own coices and you don't have to even tell a single soul. Besides,
you are what you eat.

I'm trying my best and I love you each dearly.
But I can't seem to get any of you to see clearly.
This life is the only one you are given.
I can't help you fly if you aren't willing.
I could if you asked and I can if you let me.
But burning your heart and your brain is just silly.

See your true beauty.
Know you are worth it.
Do yourself a favor.
Let yourself love.

~Autumn Rose

wish i had writen this*

"Kabul Shit"

There's a hole in our logic

There's a hole in the sky
And one day just like magic
We're all going to die

'Cause we didn't turn the lights off
And we didn't take the bus
Even though we know we should have

Oh, silly old us

Well we should have recycled
And saved our resources
While there's still someone else’s
Someone call the armed forces

And we'll blame it on terror
Also known as religion
But we shouldn't feel guilt

For protecting our children

Excuse me, sir
But is this what they call denial
Just to carry on regardless
We'll only do it for a while
We'll carry on straight down the line
Down the road to nowhere
Do you know where it is leading us
And do we even wanna go there

I don't have the answers
I don't know where we start
Start to pick up all the pieces
Of everything we've torn apart
Now, you'd think that we'd be grateful
For the fact we've got a choice
Instead we throw it back at people
Who don't even have a voice

And the teachers always told us
Told us we should love thy neighbor
And my mother always told me
Told me I should vote [new?] labor
But I don't know who to trust
And I just find it all confusing
All as useless as each other
Past the point of being amusing

Excuse me, sir
But is this what they call denial
Just to carry on regardless
We'll only do it for a while
We'll carry on straight down the line
Down the road to nowhere
Do you know where it is leading us
And do we even wanna go there


Excuse me, sir
But is this what they call denial
Just to carry on regardless
We'll only do it for a while
We'll carry on straight down the line
Down the road to nowhere
Do you know where it is leading us
And do we even wanna go there

~Lily Allen

[Thanks to Silke for these lyrics]
[Thanks to A-Z lyrics and to all the photographers and artists whose works added to this piece]

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

This is to KNOW life as it was, is and ever had a chance of being.

Thursday, April 30, 2009


I caught you
In my arms
And held you close
It wasn't your fault.
It wasn't your fault.
I loved you the first time i saw your blonde curls in my dreams.
Now all i know is that my daughter is out there

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Untitled #1

I promised it would change. I promised it would never happen again. I swore to be better. . .
And I have failed.

He's going to die now, and it is all my fault. I was warned. I was threatened. And I still didn't listen. And he's going to die with a broken heart.

Clutching the throbbing pain in my chest, I floundered in the darkness of the trees, not knowing if I would arrive in time. For, if he dies, I die too.

Lord Death will take him to the darkened realm below. I cannot Travel there i cannot ever bring him back to home.

The warmth of a fire, the comfort of his arms, home is so far away now.All i know is this darkness i must reach through.

I must bring us both home.

It's all my fault...

JUST RUN. Keep running.
Run. Follow his light.
Just run.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

September 22

Something sacred

I can't share

I never will

Just help me up again

Pull me back again

Stop the world again.

My greatest love sprung from my greatest hate.

Unto ages

And ages


Thursday, March 19, 2009

As We Both Try to Write a Story...

Dearest Lyliane(Autumn*):

Please, I emplore you, we must write a letter.

Something amazing, and truly quite better

Than anything you or I could write

Seperately, but together, we might,

Write a story of love, and maybe of joy

Or despair and hurt; about a boy?

But truly my dear, let's make it amazing

And hopefully make it unworthy of hazing.

So what do you say? Shall we give it a whirl?

Shall we write something truly terrific, my girl?

Here's what we'll do,

For this story for two:

One shall begin, and then she shall post

While the other thinks up, something, at most,

Something to add and then she shall edit,

Posting with a font that is to her credit

Remember, dear, to sign off with your name,

And now we shall begin this fun little game.


p.s.: I call italics! ^^

p.s.s.: and remember to label!

For my lovely friend, for tagging me.



’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.


Lyrics to On The Radio :
This is how it works
It feels a little worse
Than when we drove our hearse
Right through that screaming crowd
While laughing up a storm
Until we were just bone
Until it got so warm
That none of us could sleep
And all the styrofoam
Began to melt away
We tried to find some words
To aid in the decay
But none of them were home
Inside their catacomb
A million ancient bees
Began to sting our knees
While we were on our knees
Praying that disease
Would leave the ones we love
And never come again

On the radio
We heard November Rain
That solo's really long
But it's a pretty song
We listened to it twice
'Cause the DJ was asleep

This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath

No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again

And on the radio
You hear November Rain
That solo's awful long
But it's a good refrain
You listen to it twice
'Cause the DJ is asleep
On the radio
(oh oh oh)
On the radio
On the radio - uh oh
On the radio - uh oh
On the radio - uh oh
On the radio
-Regina Spektor

"Love like you are wearing your favorite shirt"


Too many to count.
Mt. Hood currently.
Secret place in my dreams.
People really make the place.

{Disney Princess}

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Autumn Rose Watson!!!

YOU have been Tagged!

When you have fulfilled the Tag, delete this as you replace it with your own! (see mine for example. ^^)

the 'show your heart tag'...with as much creativity as you can muster, show your heart in: 1 picture, 1 poem, 1 song or piece of music, 1 phrase or quote, 1 piece of clothing, 1 place and (just for fun) 1 disney princess.


The world spins for hours inside.
Lock me up.

Lost in my mind.

Drops of honey for the lips.


I must see your face for this.

Love uses words.

And Closed Eyes.


I want home.What is Mine.