Pieces of happyI've been roaming around, trying to catch all the pieces left behind,Pieces of happy by sakara-chan
Instead all I see, silence where laughter used to be,
The void that takes up your space, this foreign mask where I can't see your face,
Painted smiles, lying eyes, the things that you wont hide,
Because I'm not sure how to fix you, I'm not sure what's my next move,
I'm not sure of anything that you've left me, I can't fix these quiet rooms,
This air of empty space if there is any, All you've give me is a path without a purpose,
Do you even want to be fixed? Can I stop this wound from taking over?
Is this a battle I can't win? I can't fight this with words,
They just bend and break, beneath the weight of what's left of you,
ReflectionWill someone tell me what I'm thinking,Reflection by sakara-chan
Cause I've lost all feeling,
Time has no meaning,
when everything's the same,
When every day my reflection never changes,
Trapped in ice,
Surrounded by fire,
this pain I'm feeling,
my wound's are never healing,
I can't stand my reflection,
Can't face my self,
Can't say what I think,
Don't know how to speak,
My voice is paralyzed,
Why can't you understand,
I don't want to see,
I don't want to know,
All I want to do is runaway,
From my feelings,
From the thoughts I'm keeping inside,
The world is shifting,
What happens when it stops turning?,
Will I hit the ground?,
Or will I keep running from myself,
I can't stand this feeling of hiding from myself.
Crayon SoulmatesDear Stars,Crayon Soulmates by UntamedUnwanted
I have a bone to pick with you. You see, when I was six, I called myself the nowhere girl... and I coloured myself a soulmate. I made him on crumpled sheets, with broken pieces of crayon, on a playground that was too busy wondering whether growing up entailed stealing your mother's cigarettes and your father's dirty magazines (I suppose I was already wise enough to know that growing up meant choosing one of the many ways of breaking yourself in two.)
I hope you remember him, stars...he was important to me (My mother threw that drawing away on my seventh birthday and told me that girls are not supposed to have such dreams.).
He had hair as ebony as deep onyx and a smile that never grew up (Peter Pan would have been proud). He was magic in soul form, and smelled like cinnamon and the earth after it has rained. His eyes rivaled a lions on the best of his youth, his words were story shaped. His skin was an ink coloured canvas of wonder and even in crayon he was a sight of awe.
Current Residence: somewhere cold|
deviantWEAR sizing preference: You do know it's rude to ask a girl her weight, right?
Favourite genre of music: anything except rap
Favourite style of art: anime, surrealism, chibi-pictures.
Operating System: windows
MP3 player of choice: ipod nano
Wallpaper of choice: It changes a lot
Favourite cartoon character: Orihime, Link (it counts), Cheshire (Pandora Hearts)
Personal Quote: "There is an actual method to my madness...I just haven't found it yet."