Fall howling into the cauldron of your vespertine fugue. Feeling your disbelief suspend itself in the air,. Twirling around the ringlets of your hair. Like the ballerina that twirls in her music box. I can hear the ticking of your internal clock. The audible reminders that you are here,. Tick tock tick tock another god damn tear. The leaks in your eyes will never cease. Overflowing a bathroom with every release. Hoping for more beyond the wall of your inability,. Who have you become? Carrie.

com site in all the land! August 19, 2012. This is your very first post. Click the Edit link to modify or delete it, or start a new post. If you like, use this post to tell readers why you started this blog and what you plan to do with it.

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La pesonne qui se suicide ce n est po la vie qu elle veut s enleve mais la souffrance qui veux le tuée. Please enter the sequence of characters in the field below.

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