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She flies her kite in the early rain.
Forced to ponder under chalky clouds.
Bullets from heaven tear at her dawn crusader.
Empty sounds for an empty day.
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| "Red, a sense."
Beginning with soft lines and smooth shapes
they were felt from the inside
becoming defined by the time
that was ticking by carelessly without care.
The hot glow around her shape was enough
to make him wonder what brought on this
change of mind, change of pace that was felt there.
Syncopated melody brought the night forward and
left them restless until sleep could take their minds.
By light, the scene changed for worse or better
as he awoke to find the consequence
of his wishing and hoping.
That wave of red, a sense
that I am glad to never witness again.
Nothing to worry over. Nothing to dwell on. Nothing to wish for.
Nothing pouring itself into my head with no ending
and no end.
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| It's interesting, but since I know everyone else is on facebook I feel so compelled to just write on my old xanga.
I do not know what provoked me to do so, but it is exhilarating to know that I can say things and the only other person that will read them is me. It's like being the last person on Earth and even though you don't HAVE to look outside... you just kinda know that no one is going to come in and see what you are doing....
This is good... I like this.
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| okay i got bored and got on my xanga...
big deal.
hehe
-Cole- |
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| I am completely quitting xanga for myspace
byebye
-joshua
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