Like we never knew each other at all

I know that you're an artist, the hardest one to deal with. Everything you conceal is revealed on your canvas. You find all of your ugly meanings in the things I find beautiful. Do you see the fall is coming? You painted me in pastel, colors that don't tell of any boldness. That's the way you'd love to see me: so delicate, so weak, so little purpose. Your eyes are black so cold, they're so imperfect. They see a sleeping world, where waking isn't worth it. How, can you live without your lies?

9.16.2008

Venom Books

I don't understand why life hits me, and never nothing is okay. If it's not, it's another. I can't believe this, do I diserve this?
And it's this time, when I'm sad, I always take it out on you, when really this has nothing to do with love. And now, with what can I take this out, if this time it's love the thing that's getting me sad?
Because perfect men are only in Films or Books, and who says "NO", please come on and prove it.
Again I fall in my dreams and fantasies, why? It'd be simply I am so stupid in this kind of things. And on the top of that it's worse every time, now there's nothing I can reach one day.