I may not be a transformer but I assure you, I am in disguise. |


ToTheTotalityOfMyFansOfFive.pitapatapitapatapitapatapitapata taptaptapToTheTotalityOfMyFansOfFive.
The rain drops plummet from their heavenly home jumping off their ledge and giving themselves up to gravity, building up steadily, tearing apart at the seams, bursting on my tin roof - the rhythm resonating in my head.
baddumbadumdadumdumdum babababoom
My heart pumps blood from an earthly vessel located in my pained chest, my left lung giving right of way to my heart. I never could breath well with you around, oh my erratic heart beat- my body wills on.
-
Then you realise that these are the onl


Revelations Of A JunkieLove makes the world go around. And around and around and around and aroundroundround. Love of something, love of anything.Revelations Of A Junkie
Love of everything.
And without this love the world would stop.
And then. There would be no eggs. No trees. No eyebrows. Or even atmosphere
And we would all turn blind in a black abyss of nothingness where we wander, aimless fo


Nostalgic Insomnia.Nostalgic Insomnia.
silent silhouettes softly slink about my room, brought to
life at the early morns brink, i stay curled up on my bed the sheets and pillows are an ocean i dare not tread.
here these fellow friends come and meet me by
moonlights weak end, the pale milk pouring out from my window pane - these moments are my adorning.
there is no trace of sleep
on my wide eyed face as ghostly figures whisper secrets i dare keep, the silver light pools in my eyes and as i tuck my knees underneath
my chin, i learn to live afte


A Virgin's Biography.A weak sun filters through the dirty window panes of a city apartment block, yet everything is silent. The sun is still competing with the stars when solitary beams of lightA Virgin's Biography.
catch specks of dust in motion. A tall, dark stranger with remnants of last night still on his shirt enters
the early morning scene, his face
shadowed by stubble and days without sleep, he approaches
me with a nostalgic longing.
Slender fingers caress gently, pressing in all the right places. With eyes closed you run your
fingers along my arched spine and &nb


TheMuseOfATeenageRunAway.On the cold concrete sidewalk; the winter heels of many aTheMuseOfATeenageRunAway.
woman taptaptap through my heart and echo around in my mind while the badumbadumdabumdum of my heart drowns out
the smell of your black leather
shoes and suede versace suit. But my mind still spins from your designer cologne and aftershave. Nothing but a ghost, I bump into people on the streets, staying silent or muttering a "you're welcome" as I make my way down down down past close darkening lanes, where only the home- less give you the courtesy of a nod
in acknowledgm


Sentiment Of An Inner Child.Sentiment Of An Inner Child.
When I was rather little with rather large eyes I lived off of old English stories and rhubarb pie. I had long dark hair down to my hip bones and
lived in tales of secret gardens, petticoats and
pinafores.
I dreamt of midnight misadventures, choosing the wrong door at the labyrinth and loosing myself in
a sea of selfish hands and voices that echoed to the depths of my mind, where I would cry out in vain.
I was alone in a world all of my own, another
dimension consisting of dreams induced by musty old books at the local library and public gardens &
I may not be a transformer but I assure you, I am in disguise. |


I Am Anne-Marie.Hello.I Am Anne-Marie.
Hi there. My name is Mary-Anne, I'm 5'5, red-head, Libra...


A New World Order.the music pulses and you push backA New World Order.
step won: learning to love everyone: what makes you love a special some one? not googoogahgah ewie spewy love- but one born from a romantics heart it is lovely to be loved, so be loved
lovely. &


Poets Are Liars.I turn to you, taking a deep breathe, and sutter: "Y-you know what, I-I h-hate Shakespeare..." "Oh? And why is that?" "I-I don't have to justify myself to you..." it comes out as a hoarse whisper "Hey, I just want to know, why are you so tense all the ti- " "Curiosity killed the cat you know, I wouldn't want your heart to be next."Poets Are Liars.
That shut you up.
Wiping my sweaty, shaky hands on my stiff jeans I walk off - never one for goodbye, I stare at my lined palms, oddly enough... they were frozen stiff. I purposely walk on the side of the road, filling the depressing silen


When The Day Met The Night Pt1She sits opposite me, her feet daintily intertwined while smiling under the brim of her hat. Her hands are neatly placed on her lap - the teacup the appropriate angle to the saucer and adjacent to the spoon. Her clothes are of a recent fashion and are prim and tidy while her nails are neat, polished and clean. From a distance my dear reader - she would seem like a proper Victorian lady, merely having a tea party with male company. Now while this may seem so - I assure you ever so humbly that if one would look into her eyes; they would not tell of an English upbringing being raised as a fine maiden. No. Her eyes sparkle with a fierce desWhen The Day Met The Night Pt1
sadness pulls me down and gravity keeps me there. |
I would rather feel nothing at all. |

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| portfolio. | facebook. | myspace. | twitter. | note me. i like tea, really big jumpers, small cosy beds, writing, spooning, the stars, the raw beauty of australia, cold mornings, manners, when strangers on the street smile back, when i give away money i found on the street, public transport, traveling, old books, darling little bottle caps, frocks, anonymous glass jars, winter, cafe's, 5am, dancing, the smell of roasted coffee, when the sun peeps through dirty windows, notebooks, awkward silences in elevators, spiders webs, reading a book until i finish it in one sitting, collarbones, outer space, museums, art galleries, when it's dark by five, autumn leaves, really singing when no one can hear me, trees & the silences that hold weight. |
| This is a sincere thank you to all my supporters on & off of deviantART. To absolutely everyone who has ever watched, favourited, commented & especially those who have done none of the above; but have read my work, smiled and shook their head. Knowing somehow if I have ever touched your lives - that is an honour and the reason I am here. ♥ |
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I really should be studying
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I really should be studying
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