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you hang like a star
fucking glow in the dark
Created on 2004-01-11 13:38:05 (#1854922), last updated 2005-11-02
103 comments received, 17 comments posted
Basic Account [Gift]
47 Journal Entries, 0 Tags, 0 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 3 Userpics
Basic Info| Name: | Chelsea |
|---|---|
| Birthdate: | 08-29 |
| Location: | Veazie, Maine, United States |
BioMy desire wishes you could heed the passion I’d like for you to discern.
But you’re maintaining closure against anything I yearn to say.
Maybe im craving something other than tattered pictures and torn dreams.
Vigorously. Giving up, giving in.
I am worn against you.
I am not going to fight the invincible any longer.
As many times as I’ve tried to break you, and make you feel my wounds,
You are apparently resistant, rather defiant to any hurt.
So im giving up, or giving in.
This pretense will seal your bag of lies. It’s plausible now.
Perhaps you’re fucking appeal is an entire fraud.
But it is indisputably alluring.
Are you cold because this is how you want it?
Or because someone just like yourself made you like this.
Either way, we’re giving up or I’m giving in.
She’s got excruciating bruises from the past.
And perhaps you’ve got patches to heal them perfect.
I fucking hope so. Possibly then I’d encompass a conceivable basis to be so bitter.
Cause the pictures are ripped in half. And I still can’t seem to get them perfect.
Faultless? Giving up, giving in.
It is simply a harmless diversion to create turmoil.
But it has only caused a desolated scream.
And helped to boil and reveal envious blood.
Resent says to give up, give in.
And how I fucking wish I could flee that colorless blood.
It assists me to condescend and shoot head first into the rigid ground.
Maybe it just makes me feel like an awful entity. Yeah. That’s it.
I’m still searching for a solid rationale to linger.
Composed? Giving up. Just giving in.
Have you lost hold between pretense and promise?
Somehow I’ve allowed myself to be poisoned.
And now im just like everybody else.
Nothing is good enough any longer.
These words, these dreams. I’d try, but I can’t hold on.
My fingers are slipping away.
Tell me now. Am I really giving up?
Are you really giving in?
kristen loves chelsea <3
My name is Chelsea.
But you’re maintaining closure against anything I yearn to say.
Maybe im craving something other than tattered pictures and torn dreams.
Vigorously. Giving up, giving in.
I am worn against you.
I am not going to fight the invincible any longer.
As many times as I’ve tried to break you, and make you feel my wounds,
You are apparently resistant, rather defiant to any hurt.
So im giving up, or giving in.
This pretense will seal your bag of lies. It’s plausible now.
Perhaps you’re fucking appeal is an entire fraud.
But it is indisputably alluring.
Are you cold because this is how you want it?
Or because someone just like yourself made you like this.
Either way, we’re giving up or I’m giving in.
She’s got excruciating bruises from the past.
And perhaps you’ve got patches to heal them perfect.
I fucking hope so. Possibly then I’d encompass a conceivable basis to be so bitter.
Cause the pictures are ripped in half. And I still can’t seem to get them perfect.
Faultless? Giving up, giving in.
It is simply a harmless diversion to create turmoil.
But it has only caused a desolated scream.
And helped to boil and reveal envious blood.
Resent says to give up, give in.
And how I fucking wish I could flee that colorless blood.
It assists me to condescend and shoot head first into the rigid ground.
Maybe it just makes me feel like an awful entity. Yeah. That’s it.
I’m still searching for a solid rationale to linger.
Composed? Giving up. Just giving in.
Have you lost hold between pretense and promise?
Somehow I’ve allowed myself to be poisoned.
And now im just like everybody else.
Nothing is good enough any longer.
These words, these dreams. I’d try, but I can’t hold on.
My fingers are slipping away.
Tell me now. Am I really giving up?
Are you really giving in?
kristen loves chelsea <3
My name is Chelsea.
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