When I write, I clear my mind...
I do and say everything that I was afraid to accept while awake, in my Conscious self, surrounded by the world around me...
I guess my explaination of it doesn't make sense on account of, when I write, I am awake, in my Conscious self, and surrounded by the world around me...
But most of what I know and what I am doesn't make sense either...
That's what's beautiful about it all, I suppose...
I discover things as I go... even if explainations are down to a minimum...
I am a human that's being...
What more can I say?
Alot I guess.
But I'm just one of those people that has to be known through ... more »
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- Love Like Stone
- Fade Away
- something to remember
- a seeming less heart
- tender pulse:
- Tomorrow dried in the hopes of reaching ...
- I am not a bird;
- Breathing Out
- Faithful Companion
- We're still in March
- Sometime in May,
- The stone beneath my skin melts,
- On my way out
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Edgar Allan Poe
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