scrawls.
travelling I always stop at exits
wondering if I'll stay
young and restless
living this way I stress less
i want to pull away
when the dream dies
the pain sets it and I don't cry
i only feel gravity and
I wonder why

and the sun was wondering if
it should stay away
for a day until the feeling went away
and the clouds were dropping and the
the rain forgot how to
bring salvation
the dogs were whistling a new tune
barking at the new moon
hoping it would come soon
so that they could die
- nelly furtado

my orphical identity.
melissa
171186
leave.
doll.

scawls on my skin.


20040123
song of the condemned doll

i stood there.
oblivious to the silence.
numb from the overpowering pain.
my plastic foot.
pretty.
adorned by gaping eyes
singing in the abyss.
like a toy,
lifeless,
lured into the silence.
she beckons me with her beautiful song.
a song of the condemned doll.
a song of herself.
a tear rolled down her cheek,
as she caressed the hardness she once knew.

all dolled up on 21:16

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