So we begin my incredibly self indugent tryst into my highschool and college poetry journal. I'll start hiding these behind cuts when I have the time.
(Note: I've decided not to go in order but I will list the page numbers)
(Journal Page 3)
There she is,
And I die again.
Ten thousand times a day.
It is a broken mirror,
That gives you choices.
To cut yourself with a razor edge,
Or to swallow whole the bitter diamonds.
(Note: I've decided not to go in order but I will list the page numbers)
(Journal Page 3)
There she is,
And I die again.
Ten thousand times a day.
It is a broken mirror,
That gives you choices.
To cut yourself with a razor edge,
Or to swallow whole the bitter diamonds.
p.s. i'll take credit where credit is due, but don't start blaming me when people start throwing tomatoes.....not that they would or anything....
p.p.s. i will however, take credit, and therefore profits if they start throwing money or weed.....