

Dreams of Grayeach box is full of sandDreams of Gray
regardless of what is painted sand the color of yesterday yesterday the color of today painting rainbows of single colors wishing for gray tears tears that build drip castles drip castles that reach the sky
locked in the tower fairy tale happiness gaurded by dragons dreams of gray sandboxes painted like yesterday in single color rainbows with teardrop drip castles that reach the sky


Empty AquariumThe tank was labeled feedersEmpty Aquarium
Misshapen and unfortunate
Over populated and poor
Fighting for crumbs to fatten up
Waiting to be consumed by disconnected jaws
Of thoughtless instinct
Born into a class of vermin
With nothing to look forward to
Except the end
And I have watched
The strong devour the weak
And I have felt Like swallowing glass
And I have felt
Like choking down the bloody shards
And refusing to cry
And refusing to admit
We could do no wrong
And me being God


Children of TitansTom has a voice like chewing glass. He sings Stelle Nacht to me in the original German and spins me in sock feet on the polished marble floor. Rain beats on pitted picture windows so old they probably remember what the Viscount Newton was like who built the manor in I don't remember what year. It's our third day indoors while it rains and rains sharp stone sounds on the windows, rattling the panes. Tom presses his cheek against mine and hums Eine Klein Nachtmusik into my ear, pushing me into him with a palm on the small of my back. The brim of his hat (very Rat Pack, stolen from his dad) taps against my forehead while we dance, alone inChildren of Titans


I'll take what's behind...The sun is upI'll take what's behind...
and I'm officially invisible. I want to scribble a note
or write two names in wet cement.
This commemorates the morning of the night we didn't spend together.
This is a reminder that I exist.
This is proof of priorities reversed.
I put pen to paper
out of habit
and foot in mouth out of pure talent.
I'm not really sure
what's under the surface,
because no one has ever bothered to scratch that far.
I do know loyalty.
I do know trust.
I do know that,
every time I open


The Witching HourThe lost hour of black magic that trails the rough edge of midnight when the moon seduces those whose limbs dance and twitch like fingers pricked on spindles, and sleek, supple demons polish apples and spread their wings, perching on flecks of amber to tangle the dreams of lovers. Desire tightens in a catch of silk, rippling over the bed clothes - capturing your cries and whispers. Buttons open like ragged wounds, spilling soft pleas of want; and the sweet torture of skin pressing skin becomes a music that leaves you unnerved. You taste shadoThe Witching Hour
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"To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner." - Lestat
xo!
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an antique arms and armor expert
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"To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner." - Lestat
--
---Crey Gold
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"To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner." - Lestat
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---Crey Gold
--
Stay classy!
Ayer interpuso el comienzo, el final trae mañana, y en algún lugar en medio que se convirtió en el mejor de los amigos.
Si está solo, voy a ser su sombra. Si quiere llorar, voy a ser su hombro. Si se quiere un abrazo, voy a ser tu almohad
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"To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the question and the questioner." - Lestat
--
donny osmond? what are you doing at the north pole?!
avatar by ~onigiri-chu
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