s.o.l.i.d._c.a.p.t.u.r.e.d.
Reminded me of “March of The Penguins”
Love island, not likely to be “Lost”
Amazingly glowing coral in deep ocean that even “Nemo” is not aware of.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
p.e.r.i.l._o.f._l.u.s.t.
I could be one by my side whispering the tune of early morning, either it be rigidly croak, or tamely submissive.
Silence to endless misery, carrying out the possibility, taking hold off everything that breaks, keeping close for the sake of obvious.
Guilty of not returning your love, not wanting your constant whole, I’d built a structure too tough to break in, it might take a while, and your mindful effort, don’t give up on me, already I gave up on myself.
A terrible thought, a sickening feeling, a lost child in the presence of new toy.
Tempting as it be, opportunity not cease, I fear of what my two hands might do, sans commitment, sins committal.
Familiarize with the sounding box, twisting my agenda, a sense of despair.
How naive am I?
