There is a place,
(it isn't well known)
on the face of this Earth,
Where the Moss Campion has grown.
There is a lake,
it's waters freezing still,
where once upon a date
I gave up my free will.
And to this day,
where the frozen snow rests
and heavily weighs
upon a violet's chest
There lies the thing
I cherished the most.
With the broken string
of my childhood host.
There evergreen,
lies my spirit to fight
next to these peregrine
treasures of mine.
There is a place,
(it isn't well known)
on the face of this Earth
and the Campion still grows
One day when I come back,
the land-overgrown
will greet me, intact,
and have swallowed them whole.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
The Land That Kept My Secret
Posted by
Tsundere Girl
at
11:48 AM
The Land That Kept My Secret
2012-04-22T11:48:00-07:00
Tsundere Girl
Bad metaphors|poetry|politics|Secret|suggestive|The Land That Kept My Secret|writing|
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Labels:
Bad metaphors,
poetry,
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The Land That Kept My Secret,
writing
Monday, April 2, 2012
Trinkets for your thinking
For every stupid thing I've said
You have a dime that's worse for wear
You claim the thoughts inside my head
And pull them out into the air
As if a single golden coin
Could be the thing that makes this right
Yeah, to the victor go the spoils
And all my words can spoil the night
They stain my lips, they stain the air
And mark the atmosphere you breathe
They taint the ground on which you walk
Yeah, they can soil your precious streets
You'll never pay me for discretion
You'll never bribe away the truth
I'm so far gone beyond retention
Your efforts are a point that's moot
A dam is loose, a seal is broke
There's nothing now that you could do
No lengths that you could ever go to
That wouldn't perish in the smoke
The Truth will out, the Truth will go
Wherever Truth sees fit to be
And though it have no other place
This Truth will have a place in me
*Dimes are not gold- this is besides the point.
You have a dime that's worse for wear
You claim the thoughts inside my head
And pull them out into the air
As if a single golden coin
Could be the thing that makes this right
Yeah, to the victor go the spoils
And all my words can spoil the night
They stain my lips, they stain the air
And mark the atmosphere you breathe
They taint the ground on which you walk
Yeah, they can soil your precious streets
You'll never pay me for discretion
You'll never bribe away the truth
I'm so far gone beyond retention
Your efforts are a point that's moot
A dam is loose, a seal is broke
There's nothing now that you could do
No lengths that you could ever go to
That wouldn't perish in the smoke
The Truth will out, the Truth will go
Wherever Truth sees fit to be
And though it have no other place
This Truth will have a place in me
*Dimes are not gold- this is besides the point.
Posted by
Tsundere Girl
at
5:47 PM
Trinkets for your thinking
2012-04-02T17:47:00-07:00
Tsundere Girl
Cheap thoughts|Jerks who think they can use you|Love|poetry|writing|
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Cheap thoughts,
Jerks who think they can use you,
Love,
poetry,
writing
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Broken Branches
Hold on to the
illusion
that one day it
will get better,
Hold on to it
because you know
the alternative
is bitter
And it’s quicker
To fight with a
smile on your face
Instead of
counting
the time that you
waste
We had some words
Yeah, and we
always came apart
I never found my
way back to the start
And I can tell
You never really
adjusted well
In this purgatory
or hell,
you know...the
place you dwell
You’re in limbo
in my mind
And I’m stuck in
the rewind
Wrote it so many
times –
if only I could
find
Just a way-just a
sentinel,
some road to
follow
I would beg, I
would borrow,
I would give away
tomorrow
Does it matter
really?
You slander me so
freely
It’s not an
accident
but a choice you
make daily
I’m the broken
branches
of a tree with
rotten roots
I’m evil too boot
and it’s not that cute
I’m just a mean
person –
I’m the jerk you
love to hate
I’m everything
that grates
on your nerves, it’s
too late
I can’t be
changed.
It doesn’t matter
much
All I am is out
of touch
I fall behind on
every point of
adult life.
And it’s fine
This misery is
purely mine
And I’ll love it
dearly
until the end of
my time.
Posted by
Tsundere Girl
at
12:14 PM
Broken Branches
2012-04-01T12:14:00-07:00
Tsundere Girl
Bad metaphors|Death|I'm really his daughter|Love|My dead father|poetry|sad|writing|
Comments
Labels:
Bad metaphors,
Death,
I'm really his daughter,
Love,
My dead father,
poetry,
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writing
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