schizoptimistics's profile

A stutter, A ripple in the atmosphere. That strand of cloud that blocks the sun only to betray the shade it hastily made over your tired and trodden form. I love dreams and the explainations behind them. I like the soul. The new and the old, scent and memory combined, folded, from the embers my forefathers created an ash nation, smudging grins on the later generation. It was a painting deceiving in nature, beautiful to the uneducated and desired heavily by the guilty minds of my peers. My fea...

I am agony. I am the thought that spurs from antagonizing, I am an apparition that is subsequently rising from the steam you generate when you breath. Create something, say something different than the normal fasade between your split lips, just listen, I am the vision you see when you dream oh so lonely. I am emptiness in the purest of forms, extracted from the bones of the souls less fortunate, I found an opportune time to strike and embed myself in your heart, your eyes, your tongue, I am ...

The sweetest yes my heart skipped some pulses, horses raced through the veins to my eyes, sporadic images of lips, processed kisses, feel, enjoy, repeat...Despise. Disguise the laughter with open eyes transfixed in mine I saw some lies They paralyze oh even deeper, If I cannot find her amidst the fields then how am I my lover's keeper? I fell for weeks inside a chasm of broken glass orgasmic pain Stained my sweater it kept getting wetter with every shard that kissed my skin. But I don't screa...

A letter sent ink split from seperate ends the pen has spent days hovering almost giving in to the temptation of the writer's least important friend, reality and the blocks it forms.. Indecisive is an understatement when faced with empty parchment with which to fill with words, sometimes he scribbles and tears it to pieces just to say he got something done.. Where do you go and what do you do when you get to the place in your head? Better is a word that describes all his works, with a could b...

It seems today was the day to lose the race, your expressions ruled me, I'm drooling over promiscuity, All that's left is just to spit it your way. For the fame in the world wasn't enough for this girl, who in the midst of progress against digression, dismissed those moments that were truely affection, for an argument, the cheap smell of a non monogomous nature left her sad again. Yea she has friends that love her. I'm sure the consoling found its way into her mind like fitness, and she excer...