- Mood:
Passionate - Listening to: For What Its Worth
- Reading: Her Expression
- Watching: Chests Rapidly Rise And Fall
- Playing: On The edge
- Eating: ButterCake
- Drinking: Apple Juice
Perhaps for sentimental likeness i did dash that poor rodent,that symbol of my past and innocents upon the floor,cast him from the sight of deeds wich would name me a woman.Feeling the very childhood i was trapped within seep away as i gave my soul along with it.
perhaps for sentimental value it was when i realizd my one desire was held before me and all there was to be done was to reach out and touch it that my words returned and i seemed of knowing the exact emotion for wich i had serched for was now playing in my mind.
why had i pushed him aside at that moment? my attachment to such an item i have known for years and now he seems just an embodyment of my prison.Not as if he him self was the cause but mearly a symbol.
And i know that i would do it again,time and again to see my cause forfilled and to show the world that i am no longer the child so many see me as ,but a woman trying to prove herself in the world of fast paced adults and scorning onlookers.Our time together is breif but we will repair the tare in time that fates so cruely dangle us on the edge,hiding at the dark end of the street so that our breaking hearts may touch even for a moment. i hate to be kissed on the hand,bcause that is when we must let go and pretend that we hardly know eachother.
In a way i have never been happier,and yet,im the sadest have ever felt...