Between two knives.

Ranko · 13-03-2003, 21:58

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Careless actions bring unpredictable reactions, fractions of life sliced in half with a knife. With one stabbed in my heart and the other threathening my head, how come I'm not dead as of yet? Dry blood trails down my chest, tries to flood where there's nothing left, while I can feel a sharp edge almost touching my neck. I should be dead, but a few kind minds are in need to be feed with my silence, presence. As much as I would like to fly, I'm not allowed to die, to inspire, to expire. But why? I can't abide the sweet taste of suicide, I'm meant to guide, to side, so I hide, inside, beneath, underneath a discrete, concrete wall. And it's so tall... I should deserve to observe this reserve called rest, but I'm bound to conserve. Which purpose does this serve? It gets to my nerves. I was dead long before, I already felt sore, so why now taking more... For the sake of fake smiles, I'll walk my way for endless miles. I have to anyway.
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Echoed · 14-03-2003, 00:35

Beware of dull edges that are too easily slid against a vulnerable heart. One in a million, there are tears yet that do not belong to anyone but the world, so cry... Cry. Artificial laughter is meant for the metal shards of the TV screen.

Imagine if we actually spoke like this all day long. Lol. Very nice. I liked. ^_^

~Echo.

Ranko · 14-03-2003, 20:23

[font=Arial]What's the use. I can no longer try, I forgot how to cry. I don't need to feel, can't heal. But it won't be long, anyway I don't belong. So this unheard song of mine, mangled hope, tanlgled rope, will remain unsong. I'm not ambitious, though my voice is not my choice. Silence breeds my fate.[/font]

Thanks ^^ It would be kinda crazy if we did. Lol.

Echoed · 14-03-2003, 22:53

No one forgets tears, never lost to the years. The wells only dry when you do cry. Why not feel? Why not reel? From all the colours on the walls, from the laughter down the halls? These are true and blue. Beware of the knives you hide, you won't know it until you confide.

If we did, I think half the world would be attempting to literally pull stars from the sky with their hands.

Which isn't really all that bad. Lol.

~Echo.

Ranko · 15-03-2003, 16:42

[font=Arial]You can't find something you left behind. In my mind there's no room for wind. I am hurting, so are they. I'm not the prey, but it's just this way. My fault, if you may. Under this cover, though I discover, they wish this was over. As for me, I'm lost inside this thing named fake pride. Shameless shame. Forgive, it's the same.[/font]

Dreams are cheap, but not free. They come at a price. And the price for trying to reach the stars with your hands is being unable to. Or something. ^^;;