I made things.
Poemy things.
Its been a while.
Forgive the silliness that will no doubt be the next few poems of mine, Im getting back into the swing of things.
*loves*


MammyI can't remember if it was my first word or not, Though I know I do say it a lot. Not Mum, Mom, Mummy or mother, You're Mammy to me and never another.Mammy
My Mammy with red hair, or purple hair, or brown, My Mammy who'd pick me up, if I should fall down. Who'd help dress my barbies and find their lost shoes, And my crayons, and books, and other things I lose.
You'd teach me to read, dont know how long that took, Then you wont mind too much when I steal all your books. Taught me maths and science, and my a-b-c-d's Taught me right, wrong, and when to say please. &


This is HappinessClock strikes midnight and Im locked up tight again, Sitting at my computer but I dont see the screen, Eyes half closed, mind half closed, Tears fall faster than blood it seems.This is Happiness
This is not a twisted cry for attention, This is my way of relieving tension. Your self-harm is my self-help therapy, I am not broken, so don't try to fix me.
This is sadness, And this is happiness, Little cuts of blissful brightness, I sometimes wonder why I ever fight this.
Clock strikes midnight and Im on the floor again, Laughing endlessly while alcohol


VanillaCan you hear me?Vanilla
The room is filling now. Streamers dance in the streams of people, Balloons bounce overhead and children smile.
Happy Birthday, They say. I really wanted chocolate cake,
I say.
Your faces dulled in the dim light do not respond. You say I always liked vanilla.
Endless crowds of people who look the same as me, Who have my eyes, Or hair. Children who look like their parents, who look like my parents, who look like me, Everywhere.
They knew me since I was "this" high, They knew me from my first words


Dial ToneJust your room, just your bed. Where you slept, where you bled. Another memory strikes again, A reminiscent streak of pain. Your home is merely a mourning tomb. A mourning flowers fill your room. Posters smile down from your purple walls, You were the only one who called at all.Dial Tone
You left me here, alone. Youre flying high, Im on my own. The note is all you left behind, Its dying words still cloud my mind. The ghost of you still haunts this place, Water still streams down my face, I cannot stop the tears, And emptiness burns my ears. Alone, I
I would like to announce you, that I decided to vitalise my account and submit my new artworks. There are few prominent changes - it is my pleasure to invite you to see them, with time their will be much more visible
Greetings
Zioło
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[link] - my photo gallery.
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Get to know me.
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:iconnatakukikori:
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~*without death there are no true heros, without loss there is no true love*~
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~*without death there are no true heros, without loss there is no true love*~
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