myopicdream

He's been awake the whole night through fearing for her return yet hoping she'll never leave He looks over to his sleeping partner and remains quiet as not to wake her the lover creeps into his room her transparent gown is sliver and gold and she whispers into his ears all the things he longs to hear sweat drips from his tense brow he longs to curl into her arms but knows the pain that it will cause "come to me-you know you want me" Her voice is a thin caress to his ears He knows he must resist but resistance is futile He knows he should not be with her yet is drawn to her allure his partner silently stirs in her sleep

Would you take the damaged child The muse said to me holding out a quiet wrapped bundle in her wispy hands blue haze emanating just from her mere presence No one wants him and if you don't I'll have to leave him here to die I turned away deep in thought did I really want this burden I had been incubating perfection but the road had split and I had taken an erroneous turn Such a decision I wanted not and as I turned to face her A shimmering light burst forth behind her and a soft whimper quietly came from the imperfect child as if he had no right to be As I reached out to touch her hands I gazed upon his face And ins

OMG you are such a perve What are you doing here Why do you keep stalking me? You made your hatred clear. You are like a snake That slithers and sneaks and hides herself in anonimity Just to take yet another perverted peek. If you happen to dislike what I say please find another site to steal Get over yourself It's not all about you It's helping me to heal You're a strega, a bully, a witch oops just a sec I am not being straight You really are a bitch So get in your puke gree truck and stay away You really are not wanted here You are like a mole blind to life Find someone else's site   To smear So you li

In a drawer covered with dust lies pieces of a lifetime some pretty some sad some just hidden away from a distant past I found your letter while shredding pieces of my life away It said how happy and grateful and blessed that we had found each other again you quoted scripture and called our relationship "precious" enclosed was a newspaper article about our childhood adventures (because you used to be a really good writer) It was dated September 1999 I kept many of your letters but I didn't read them because I knew they were all lies And had i known then what I know now I would not have gone searching for you but

She only meant something to you When your life was in chaos and had no man to warm your bed When life got too much for you You expected her to "be there" for you And I had to remind you she was only 13 And that was not her purpose to do You blamed her for your problems For the men who eventually left you (because they could no longer tolerate your drama) Over medicated her to keep her quiet Played out the victim and martyr oh so well Seeking out pity where none should have been given To you anyway.... Placed everyone and everything Above and before her When really she should have been your priority Chose another person's d

                                               Her Sin Bless me Father for I have sinned She sits alone swathed in the safety of the darkness that surrounds her save for the candle that burns behind her confessor Creating a flickering silhouette before her Her voice is husky and low as if she fears her words will ooze under the door and hang in the air over her head for all the world to see What is your sin Child he asks slowly she reveals that she doesn't love her husband any longer and he is her 5th one he doesn't understand her he can't fulfill her and is a disappointment to be with She is having an affair with a man

I am one of a kind Unique in every way Quick to make friends With the charm I have been given Head strong and I fight for myself I am a believer in Christ For my life is forever his I no longer fear death Or this life that I live For my destiny is already lived out I am a mind full of ideas Some that never make it through My mixture of confidence and emotion Make me a spinning wheel Bound to loose control in the right ways

When dusk falls, The shadows slither from buildings and expand. They loom, sneaking yet oppressive, skulking behind lampposts. Illuminated by sunset, They nip at the heels of passer-by,     hurrying them home.

I was about twenty when time, so named, left. after eight lows, infinity pressed on. what year should I answer for? this number self-abuses. still, awareness crashes in. interspersed with brief sanity, my mind deteriorates. I'm left choking on my silence, and I don't know where to begin. 8. but begin I must, and it might as well be here: in her frigid, periwinkle eyes. they were making some sort of water-like sound and Everests crumbled around my ankles: someday, someday as if the sea were one of us. but I knew better and, with the conscientious propriety of a cashier handing back change, I turned away. the connection broken, ice again ve

Who is truly handicapped? I watch them all Their innocent faces Wonder what if We ever switched places Would I learn the feeling of true compassion? Because us “normals” seem to be Cruel and cold and quite empty. I look into my sister’s eyes And I’m taken by surprise I see no truth, I see no lies I just see her Sitting there In her, quite normal, wheelchair. Who’s to say there’s something wrong? Who’s to say she doesn’t belong? In my few years, it seems I’ve found That we all need to look around. And perhaps then, yes then we’ll see We have the real disability.

I have no voice, and have no sight, Never again do I see vitalizing daylight. Darkness is the disease that plagues my world, No wings enable me to fly and see the beautiful sunset unfurl. And without speech, there's little I can do, To get my say from me to you. My thoughts only count when pen meets paper, Will you listen? Or instead, burn my words to vapor? But still, I have something more to give me an impression, Of the real world, even without those two as possession. And with it, I can still paint a perfect picture, Of my life, even without a pair of eyes as a fixture. I still have my hearing, and it's like an extra pair of h

They look at me differently, And shoo their children away. They judge me by the way I am, They don't listen to what I say. They think I must be dumb, An old-fashioned "Idiot." Just because I cannot get up, From the chair in which I sit. And even when they get to know me, They still don't understand. Always underestimating me, Because I cannot stand. "You don't look like you should be in a wheelchair," A lady once told me. Why? Because I don't drool? Because I'm aware that I have to pee? I'm sick of all these stereotypes! Get to know me, please. And then maybe you will see, That I can talk with ease. "Poor thing," a woman m