Site
new
old

Me
bio
rings

Contact
notes
Extras
mail

Reads
About Indie, love triangles, and destruction
Not about Ninjas
Faces
Of fabulous inventions
Scrap paper poetry

Thanks
design
host

The Girl
Is trying to figure out who she is one day at a time.
more?

Loves

  • Being home
  • A good book
  • Interesting music
  • Bubbles
  • Random questions

    Frowns on

  • Bugs in my hair
  • Going without sleep
  • Watching people eat
  • Slush on my jeans
  • Days without hugs

    Disclaimer
    EXit if you hate it.

  • Comb your hair, baby girl.
    ...written on 2009-03-27, @ 8:54 p.m.

    These tangled strings trap knees like flies in webs. They shiver in the wind like yarn batted by baby kittens. We struggle, helpless and afraid, in a trap we know we cannot ever escape. This place of conjoined limbs and scathing tongues bites into our hearts like a cannibal. Fighting only hurts us more, tightens our bonds, so how can we escape? Lying dull will see us dead by morning or starving for something by moonlight. By dawn you are gnawing and chewing like an animal at the sinew of yourself. Ripping the intricacies of the world apart with your primitive teeth. Panting you wait, defeated and no longer desperate. This is not the way I remember it, you cry. This is not how things were suppose to be, you murmur. How did we get here? Was it my fault, was it yours? Can we blame anyone?
    Or are we trapped in an endless sea of tangles?

    heart |of the| city