.to be happy.
.the beginnings.
.clickablez.
.leave a mark.
.items required.
"NJ Falls Into The Atlantic"
And it's 4am and we will stalk again
The princess and her bitter queen.
On the 4th day of July
Deep in summers eye,
Naked like the truth should always be.
So speak your knives.
(Don't follow, with your foot)
All this pain here,
(All comes from your dry lung)
I won't listen
(Your rhetoric is fleeting)
My lies are fixed with glue.
Coming straight from off the water
Sunburned face and drunken father
Crying as she's carving in her flesh.
And it's 4am and we will stalk again
The princess and her bitter queen.
On the 4th day of July
Deep in summers eye,
Naked like the truth should always be.
This false art
(Of palm trees and trash heaps)
This burning bed
(Where my ghost will now sleep)
Watching romance from a far seat
Bleeding from the glass on my feet
Learning that I love the smell of flesh.
And it's 4am and we will stalk again
The princess and her bitter queen.
On the 4th day of July
Deep in summers eye,
Naked like the truth should always be.
An angel on his two knees
Arms stretched towards the red sea
Of violence and a sultry tongue
The scenic view of carnage
'Caused by the sword in his hands
The beauty resonates in birth.
It's plain to see the wind beneath the trees.
Flowing free, the summer breeze is sweet.
I lay in space choked by my own air.
I love the taste of your blackened lips.
And it's 4am and we will stalk again
The princess and her bitter queen.
On the 4th day of July
Deep in summers eye,
Naked like the truth should always be.
make yourself happy!!! =))
Sunday, December 18, 2005
//The Night She Cried the Heartache//
Her knives crossed my hand,
and like a snakebite, stuck a mark.
The poison leaking from her skin,
it slices through my flesh.
Her burning eyes they speak,
Of a bloody romance fought to the last breath.
So don't look... At all I have...
Just inkspills... And torments that pierce...
My burnt lips... This over bitten tongue...
But don't leave... My frozen heart to dry...
In this blood drenched sky...
Just to know I live,
I pinched myself and tried to feel my pain.
But little did I know,
The sacrifice would kill me.
Her burning eyes they speak,
Of a bloody romance fought to the last breath.
So don't look... At all I have...
Just inkspills... And torments that pierce...
My burnt lips... This over bitten tongue...
But don't leave... My frozen heart to dry...
In this blood drenched sky...
Just like how you paid the price,
just to fix my broken nails,
I'm torn apart mentally,
by the stones she throw in her sleep.
So don't look... At all I have...
Just inkspills... And torments that pierce...
My burnt lips... This over bitten tongue...
But don't leave... My frozen heart to dry...
So tomorrow will come by...
#~i'm making myself happy!
Gerald the stick
apathetic anarchist
death: 5.8.1991
age: 15
school: wait and see. its somewhere i don't want to be.Presbyterian High
email: gerald_jiale@hotmail.com
WanTs
God
The ppl who will be reading this blog (this is just to please you)