dance-the-misery

"Oh, Ho-ho!" Cried Peter, "The Cleverness of me!" As he lept into the air, flying circles around her swooning head, filling it with hopeless dreams. As he spun in the air like a drunken bird of prey she began to come to. Upon focusing, she would see the unnatural way the light reflected off of his baby teeth, as he bared them at her (in a very unchildlike manner). And she cried "What of the promises! What of the eternal youth!" at an unsympathetic audience. Peter continued his maddening dance and let out a evil cackle Of those who have outsmarted their naïve and willing prey. "Silly child, mythical dreams and unfounded promises… no wonder

Disappointed with the final accumulations of a life that promised to render more The fallible dreamer resigns his once hopeful position on this reality And wills a better one to follow, a paradise willed into existence Consoling a failed wanderer, leaving one last promise And so the vagabond rules this weary journey a price paid And fully worth it's hardships, as the new prize to be received Promises of bigger and better things, the possibilities this derelict never acquired Taking to heart the phrase heard his whole life "Salvation is acquired through Faith alone" So he places the remainder of his broken dreams, broken heart, and bro

At last I am at peace As the plugs you came with Have filled all the voids and patched all the holes That were specifically made for you. And you tell me I'm perfect, But I know I'm really just Perfect for you. In silence I walk you home And I feel each minute drop to the floor and shatter Never to be pieced together again, Like a Sicilian tile, As each day threatens to bring me farther from you And closer to Athens To be tempted by satyrs and nymphs Who want nothing more than to end the happiness That you have given me, That I do not deserve. And each day I wait until I can spend every second with you Cynical me! Look what

I suppose that no one ever told you that the more you put into it The less you'll get out Or else be able to get out of it. Some things we must learn the hard way, And you've learned it the hardest way of all; Straight out through your breast plate And on to the rough concrete. However your loss is a gain For the ants that crawl the bumps and cracks in the sidewalk Like so many mountains and gullies, As they near your ravished organ And begin to execute nature's plan: Your severed heart is broken and bleeding, And those tiny ants, wonders really, begin to gnaw off tiny pieces. Their pincers and mandibles made perfectly for the

  Dorrie Mills, 40, has found the love of her life. They have moved in together and share nearly everything. They have spent the past two years together and intend to spend the rest of their lives together. Ohio law, however, is working to prohibit Dorrie from marrying her love. Why? Because their love transcends cultural norms. Dorrie and her girlfriend, Karen, will continue to fight for the state to legally recognize their relationship and extend benefits which are extended to more conventional "life partnerships."   Same sex civil union is permitted in several other countries, including the Netherlands and Germany. Certain U.S. states h

Perfection and peace, a song sung on Thursday night, Filled with all that is good and soothing in this world A ballad of beaches, kisses, and temporary cease-fires. A song of songs, of trust, of a day well spent. I sung an ode to the season, to the present, the future And I fell asleep with my underbelly exposed. Friday morning I awoke with my entrails exposed A realization of my trust had been abused last night Flowing out of wounds, I lost my life, I had no future And all that filled my eyes was the hopelessness of this world. That such a love for anyone could be so poorly spent My regret and hatred consumed me, a well-fed fire.

I fell, a casualty of your selfish game; Left searching for an intangible prize, Grasping through a void, an empty plain. I cried to the heavens for a break in the pain And fell to my knees before you, I fell, a casualty of your selfish game. Lured inside by a hope it was not all in vain Wasting the last crumbs of my energy Grasping through a void, an empty plain. A God falls in my eyes, for he shares your name; No prayers will be answered today. I fell, a casualty of your selfish game. This ravenous hunger has left me insane. Starving for your heart, which does not exist; Grasping through a void, an empty plain. Wishing I'd fe

Jake walked into the terminal of the train depot and set down what he had left to check his wallet. He cursed himself for not doing so earlier. In his wallet he found $48, as well as his debit card. "Lucky," he thought. "What a surprise, I won again." He said, and picked up his possessions to approach the ticket booth. He looked at the train schedule to see when the next train would leave. It didn't matter where it was going, as long as it was going. There were three different destinations all leaving at 4:30 AM; San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Santa Fe. He considered just picking Santa Fe, but decided to leave it up to chance. He pl

I'll still say this isn't happening When I go to class and you're absent And when I look at my newest tattoo I'll tell myself it'll be gone when I look back Because you are my friend And when they told me what had happened I knew it wasn't true I knew it because you are my friend And my friends don't die. My sister's casual friends die. Other people die. They drink they drive, whatever. We don't drink And you don't die. You are my friend. And my friends don't just not wake up one day. My friends live. I knew they were lying. You are my friend. And three days later I watched you As you laid there perfectly still for four ho

And now, Mr. The Fourth, you've caught me up in quite the lobster cage, an advocate of teenage rage I'd like to see you work your way out of this one. I pout, as you know it's nothing, but still valiantly win me back, none the less. And you said you're just a hopeless romantic, helplessly trying to make a sandwich with french bread, and I can't help but let out a hearty guffaw at the relapse you've caused in this hapless dreamer, in the clasp of your good-hearted jaws. You mean well, and I mean to make the most out of this, but I can't very well be satisfied with satisfaction. Now what kind of fighter would that make Bo Peep? A r