BINDING PROTIPS (for Men with Boobs whose mothers still insist on having a Daughter):
1- Tell your mom you need new bras.
2- Tell her you want them for jogging, so you don't look like Flappy MgGoo and turn off all the guys.
3- http://www.titlenine.com/product/310900.do ORDER IN SMALLEST SIZE. I have a C-level explosion of WOMANLY SUCK on my chest, and it masks this wonderfully. If you arrange them right, they look like pectorals.
his death rippled through the dreaming.
through the very heartbeat of life from the center of the very heart of sleep.
tore through every sleeping form
tore through every bleeding heart
and it became that which was the self
that one single pulse
in which he'd killed himself over and over again.
Replaced by a single tiny white feather.
the only fragment of hope
in praying that the pain and horror of the world would some day end.
In praying that there would be no "New World"
In praying that we could have a second chance
This Dream was the Dream that lived since the beginning of time and would never die.
But what of that black pulse? What of that blackness inbetween the stars?
an amber bloodstop
magic glitters like hope diamonds in the middle of the night
as my tears fall freely midst the dryness of my heart
a dryness never to be filled
my last heart is dead and I will never see that thing that i had hoped for
she whispers my name in the silence of the night
she has always haunted me and empassioned me with her forever fear
why shall i live if she still haunts me so
why should i die if she should have me alone
my power is great as it is still fallen
my heart is frail as it is still beating
I find myself in sinful hands
I find that i cradle myself
against the inevitable
I dissolve into her bone white fingers in a cruel joke, a mistake, a dream that never happened.
She was the only one that ever truly loved me.
do i feel