The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible. ~Vladimir Nabakov

Tuesday, July 20, 2010


Unattained was my goal
Healing that slithery vision
Delusional mind combined
Love and hate into fusion
Do believe what you must
My care was given so frank
I have myself only to blame
Deserving of a solid spank
Sorrow, spite and the envy
Driven within soulful core
Shameful hidden your face
Unsatisfied wanting more
Sleep my precious darling
Do close those green eyes
Yes, still unforgiven rests
Foul dirt in your little lies

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