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Array
(
[sid] => 142885
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => pretty.hate.machine
[time] => 2008-06-02 06:15:24
[hometext] => Not at all sure where this came from... A mix of love and pain, yet when is it not so?
[bodytext] => There are roses in your eyes, yet The thorns pierce your sorrow Unwanted, unwilling, A wind of such violence Whispering through your eyelashes Your locks of whorish gold, And how can I love you with my weak wrists Held up by the tiniest of tendons That you slit With your scalpel tongue. You, miss demolition lover Girl of bitter strawberries and severed wishes Your self-hate kills the air and Rapes my lungs I weep my frustrations as I ***** your fragile dreams Let me love you the only way I can With chains tight around your selfish heart a piece of my soul in every bruise sunflowers grow better when buried in ***** look at you reach for the sky your child fingers grapple for a sip of affection a taste of heaven a battle of moon and sun in your smile both beautiful and endless Perfection in your crushed esteem In your supple tears, sweet on my tongue Like syrup from between Your quaking legs Like thunder, but your voice rises above all gods But never above me A mosaic of stars tremble in your Lonely eyes as they Sleep in mine, Your small body tucked up against me like a reason for living a sigh of roses without the thorns. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 273 [topic] => 64 [informant] => FleurdeSang [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
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