Zombionic Well, there are quite a few interests I have.

I enjoy nature and all its inspirations.

Abstract art, in my opinion, is the most expressive and intricate form of art which I love to pursue as a hobby often.

Music is something I listen to religiously and enjoy producing.

And writing poetry is where all my emotions are at.

So yeah...That's just a scratch on my surface.
-.-

Gotta love the one-word response “oh”


It makes me want to punch you in the effin’ thrOOOAAAt.

I just wanted to say thanks

The least enjoyable aspect of some of my friends has to be the fact that they derive humor by making a mockery of some of the things I do. It isn’t funny. It’s hurtful. Thanks for making the night a little more unbearable.

Discipline

I care for you more than I should.

Unphatomable

How one piggy back ride has altered an entire outlook on a relationship.


Trust me, there’s more to it than you think. I’m not that ridiculous.


I look too deep into things.

‘Ode to Love

I don’t wanna be falling again.

Control

Why can’t my parents just accept me for who I am?

Come on

I’m an angsty teenager…YOU’RE an angsty teenager. We both are into music. We’d be the Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love of our time. Except you (hopefully) don’t kill yourself and I get accused of it…but I digress. I already tried once, so…not again.

Being Single’s Where It’s At

Or so I thought.

It felt that way for a while, with the freedom and all. But now with autumn on the way (my favorite season) and school coming back, there’s going to be more stability in my life and I’m kind of getting lonely :/.

This is my moon, Mona. She says hello.

Selfishness?

My heart,

What can you observe about it?

Well,

It’s beating, yes.
And yes, it’s somewhat healthy. Red-pink and embodies a gift.

Anything else?

Well, yes
It’s living.

But it’s also,
Dying
And…
Terminally bleeding.

But you cannot touch it.

Don’t even try to augment one fragile finger of yours
To try and seal the punctures.

For you cannot physically reach it.

Or touch it’s soft tissue.
Or feel its warm pulse in your hands.
Or taste it, this sweet muscle of love.

For I have it contained,
In this glass box.

Forever to be my own.
Forever in a solitary structure.

Where, it cannot be broken any longer.

Where no more harm can be inflicted upon it.

Look at it.


So fresh, so young, so…

So…

Naïve.

But it shall not fall a fool of love’s fortune once more.

Or be blinded by the devilish temptation that is merely a stranger, lurking around the eerie street lamp.

And yes,

You may see it,
But it will never be yours to hold.

It shall be mine

And only mine to hold.

Is that selfish?



1 2 older »