Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Miejuib]

When times are good,
count the years.
when times are less,
count the days.
when times are hard,
count the hours.
when you need to,
count the seconds.

[lentower]

both of these are fine poems

thank you!

[Miejuib]

thank you!

[AnaRusalka]

So this is what it means to live in anxiety, 
giving the expectation more power than the reality.

Tip-toes across the lines of tension,
wear hats, and scarves, and masks,
never think about what it means,
and have I made this about me?


So this is what it means to breathe in your own filth,
doppelgängers in your head, every thought examined, weighed, and measured.

Pluck.
Just one more.
Pluck.
This must be where the itch is coming from.
Pluck.
I'll be happy when...
Pluck.
I'll start living when...


So this is what it means to hate,
turn the words inside, grow them in my spine, breathe them in my lungs.

At the end of the day, I'm a pretentious child wearing my mothers shoes.
At the end of the hour, I'm self-centered, no one is thinking about my mistakes but me.
At the end of the minute, I'm creating my own misery, I know it, and I still can't stop.
At the end of the second, I'm spreading it everywhere..

[N.U.]

OOO! Lots of traffic!
The Shadowbox looks busy!
Nope. Spambots again.

[lentower]

thank YOU!

So this is what it means to live in anxiety, 
giving the expectation more power than the reality.

Tip-toes across the lines of tension,
wear hats, and scarves, and masks,
never think about what it means,
and have I made this about me?


So this is what it means to breathe in your own filth,
doppelgängers in your head, every thought examined, weighed, and measured.

Pluck.
Just one more.
Pluck.
This must be where the itch is coming from.
Pluck.
I'll be happy when...
Pluck.
I'll start living when...


So this is what it means to hate,
turn the words inside, grow them in my spine, breathe them in my lungs.

At the end of the day, I'm a pretentious child wearing my mothers shoes.
At the end of the hour, I'm self-centered, no one is thinking about my mistakes but me.
At the end of the minute, I'm creating my own misery, I know it, and I still can't stop.
At the end of the second, I'm spreading it everywhere..