I sit alone and watch the clock tryin to collect my thoughts. All I think about is you, and so I cry myself to sleep and hope the devil, I don't meet in the dreams that I live through.
October 12, 2008
distorted belief...
I sit alone and watch the clock tryin to collect my thoughts. All I think about is you, and so I cry myself to sleep and hope the devil, I don't meet in the dreams that I live through.
September 26, 2008
you're breaking my heart
September 25, 2008
my love bipolar
September 05, 2008
You.
August 22, 2008
life on the side...
July 21, 2008
the way you move me....
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i'll never give up on you.
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for me too...
July 20, 2008
To my Immortal Beloved,
July 07, 2008
lo que te esta sobrando a mi me salva la vida...
June 18, 2008
como si....
June 11, 2008
June 05, 2008
June 01, 2008
PS:>
May 27, 2008
i surrender.
May 20, 2008
so sorry
May 13, 2008
Eternal sunshine of the SPOTLESS mind
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Never again will I hear you
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Never again will I miss you
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Never again will I fall to you
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Never again will I kiss you
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Never again will I want to
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Never again will I love you
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Never!
May 12, 2008
May 07, 2008
butterflies in me
May 06, 2008
May 05, 2008
nobody's song
April 29, 2008
remember remember 04.25.08
April 28, 2008
you came up with a breeze
April 25, 2008
at the point of no return
April 24, 2008
April 15, 2008
we're one?
April 14, 2008
is my heart still beating?
April 13, 2008
anyone else
i guess this will always be a game
April 10, 2008
the truth
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So I crawl back into your open arms.
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Yes, I crawl back into your open arms.
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And I crawl back into your open arms...
April 09, 2008
April 08, 2008
April 07, 2008
i don't shine....
April 04, 2008
i fear love and fear
you think you know...but you have no idea.
Para que me quieras.......
April 03, 2008
A Song On the End of the World
On the day the world ends a bee circles a clover, a fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea, by the rainspout young sparrows are playing and the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be.
On the day the world ends women walk through the fields under their umbrellas, a drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn, vegetable peddlers shout in the street and a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island, the voice of a violin lasts in the air and leads into a starry night.
And those who expected lightning and thunder are disappointed. And those who expected signs and archangels' trumps do not believe it is happening now. As long as the sun and the moon are above, as long as the bumblebee visits a rose, as long as rosy infants are born... No one believes it is happening now.
Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet, yet is not a prophet, for he's much too busy, repeats while he binds his tomatoes: No other end of the world will there be, No other end of the world will there be.






