Wouldn't you agree

There's something very nerve-racking about you,
I don't quite know what it is.
I don't quite know that I want to know what it is,
but I know quite well that I want to know what it is that I don't know.
And that makes everything difficult.

Wouldn't you agree, good Sir?

This brain of mine

My brain, my brain
it's quite the thing
quite the awkward, funny thing.
Some days it's fine
sometimes it's (un) define (ed)
some nights it's swimming in wine.
Like rain, like thoughts
they go away
and come again another day,
if rain, if thoughts
could only stay
and never come another day.
I try, I'll try to refrain from rambling
but just so you know
just so it's known.....ahem....errrrr.....
my brain is a constant ramble
rumble
tumble
mumble.

After all,
I have spattered ink.

So who's to say I'm not going to spatter it on you?

someday

run
run
run
run,
cus you're not catching me that easily.

The thought that pillaged my other thoughts

What if you looked into somebody's eyes (this someday could be anybody) and knew they were the right person for you? But everybody told you that they weren't, that you were wrong. What defines right in that moment? What if you could get lost and never return? Would you do it, or instead sit still wondering why you hadn't? I don't want to be the still person painted in some picture that looks like every other painted picture. And I know my heart doesn't want to be stuck in such a painting. Secretly I want to be laughed at for doing something absolutely rediculous. I want to be remembered, but not because of some great deed; I want to be remembered by something that hates to be remembered, something that people can only shake their rubbishly snobbish heads at. That is all, rock-in-ridge!

She is her

She sits
and sings
and strums.
She's lonely
she's broken
she's scared.
This is what I see
this is what I love.
I wouldn't want to see
no I wouldn't want to see
anything more beautiful.

(God gave me this for you Laur, and this is how much he loves you. You are so beautiful and passionate, and he wants every bit of your passion and adores every second of it. He's so jealous for you, and he wants, he wants you).

Hmhm

Why don't you throw me against the wall?
It would be better
then this:

down

the night is falling down
into my bed and onto the walls.

: to Lovely

lovely, lovely summer night
with a lovely, lovely breeze-
only
it wasn't so lovely
because Lovely wasn't there.

oh how i wish she were : )

Yoho

"Hahahaha! You know what?"
"What, what is it?"

Nevermind.

it doesn't really need a title

often i wonder if dreams are entirely a world of their own, and when you close your eyes you're swept away into the wonderful and terrible realm of such a place. granted, nothing ever makes sense in a dream (except on the rare occasion, haha, those times when you wake up and mutter, "Oh shit!" because your dream was so clear). i've always wanted to fly, but i can't, at least i've been told i can't. for those of you who know me, you know that peter pan (PETER!!!) is my hero. he always will be, and i'll always wish that he could come and visit my window. aye, this is all so unrealistic and childish, and go ahead and role your eyes....(to be continued when i feel like finishing the rest)

Away

Fly away
darling
go your way
darling
break my heart and through it to sea
just don't stay and smile at me.

From a certian book that I know about:

The blade was cold
that night
when she ruined it with his heart,
and her feet were bold
in flight
when she left him to the dark.
Run before they see
and run until you’re free,
but you will never flee
that blood and its decree.

.....

My heart beat is mad
so mad
that it stopped.

Ringadingaling...

I tried to call you
but you wouldn't answer
and when you did
your voice was different.

why'd you have to be so cute?
it's impossible to ignore you...

- imogen heap

i love you

So if I can't rhyme anymore
tell me so,
and if I can't have you anymore
let me know.

Silly nothing's

I saw you standing in the door
and it made me smile;
my eyes
they wavered for a moment
and when I looked again you were gone.

gone

possibly

the oak sea
is a sea of oaks
you planted for me.

the shade of blue
is a piece of you
that fell from the sky
and into my heart.

the nervous perfume
is the fear i wear
when you're near.

and if none of this makes sense
just remember...
nothing ever does.