thislittleperson

remember that the sun has never failed to rise, even after the grayest of days, and the stormiest of nights.

Can you feel it, I wonder? The sand that slowly slips away. The inexorable march of time, Ticking away at you, Piece by piece. You crumble. Regret, anguish; there is no joy in what comes. All you have left are 'what if' memories, Eating away at you, like maggots on the skin. So deep was the pain inside of you, So bitter the desire for change; You even came crawling back to me, Begging for another chance. I wonder, Shall I give it to you?

You were vodka disguised as water; too much to my lips, and I became sick.

He fell in love with her handwriting – the way her dribbled g’s gallivanted into corkscrews – the way her s’s would caress the ends of the letters, lapping at the plurals and ever so softly conveying graphite sibilance – the way her a’s had jaunty tails held high, the apexes of lowercase – the way her commas would pause and the pencil point would press ever so slightly into the filaments – the way her cursive flowed like a landscape (and they say that pictures are worth more than the masterstrokes on her looseleaf) – the way her hand had crinkled the paper as she scribbled a note on

Why did you have to come into my life? As if I needed another problem. You're so happy and smart, and perfect. You're too good for me, so don't give me hope. While my life is black and white, Your life is full of colors and emotions. My life is boring and drab, Yours is full of good things and love, Why did you have to come into my life? As if I needed to fall for you.

It seemed almost like You were right there again, Just waiting for me With your hands outstretched. But it was just a dream, And even though I knew it, I still cried when I woke up, Thinking of me and you.

Every little breath Seems like an eternity When I'm beside you. You're like a furnace, Breathing heat into My heart that froze over.

She searched , with bandaged hands and burned arms for the warmth of a soul in the caked faces of false men. She searched , with filthy hands and blind eyes for joys of life in the graves of those who knew only its tragedies. She searched , with livid hands and false smiles for the beauty of reality in the shadows smeared upon her walls and in the moonlight glaring down upon her. She searched with manicured hands and lyrical words for gods in the approval and recognition of men. She searched until she finally found but the very things for which she searched searched in her and found nothing, but two hands with blind eyes burned arms f

咲くその木 春風に舞う 緩めた手 抱きしめ止めた 探しても無駄 Saku sono ki Harukaze ni mau Yurumeta te Dakishime tometa Sagashitemo muda This blooming tree Dancing in the spring wind The hand I've loosened Ceased to embrace me It's futile even if I search for it