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Array ( [sid] => 82276 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => ''My Disorder II...'' [time] => 2005-01-31 11:01:05 [hometext] => "Continued..." [bodytext] => She is diseased,
But her love is pure,
Prostitutes honesty,
A perversion of morality.
She is a whore,
She loves the pain,
But hates the memories,
So she f*cks them away.
But she won't tell you her story.
She bleeds away the suffering.
The melancholy Valentine,
Dark shadows circle her
fathomless
Downcast eyes.
Dejected.
Lugubious over what she has
lost.
Herself.
Raven haired,
Mocca skinned,
She sharpens her trapestine claws,
Her teeth are sharp.
In love with the phosphorescent
gleam of the moon.
Luna be her saviour.
And in her little black heart she
burns for her.
She smells of cinnamon and camphor,
And she will never be yours,
You'll never have her truely,
Because you can not possess her.
Serpentine,
Her forked tongue will lick your burning
wounds,
Flexuose, and you are seduced.
Her skin is soft,
But her heart is worn,
She has been broken before.
She stitches up her mouth,
She would never tell a secret.
She stitches up her ears,
She won't hear your lies,
She stitches up her eyes,
So you won't have to see her cry.
Her mind is her enemy,
Her soul forgotten,
This her life,
And her greatest Disorder...

(c) Bethanie Martell, 5th October 2004 [comments] => 1 [counter] => 149 [topic] => 61 [informant] => xMizeriex [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => selfstruggles )

''My Disorder II...''

Contributed by xMizeriex on Monday, 31st January 2005 @ 11:01:05 AM in AEST
Topic: selfstruggles

She is diseased,
But her love is pure,
Prostitutes honesty,
A perversion of morality.
She is a whore,
She loves the pain,
But hates the memories,
So she f*cks them away.
But she won't tell you her story.
She bleeds away the suffering.
The melancholy Valentine,
Dark shadows circle her
fathomless
Downcast eyes.
Dejected.
Lugubious over what she has
lost.
Herself.
Raven haired,
Mocca skinned,
She sharpens her trapestine claws,
Her teeth are sharp.
In love with the phosphorescent
gleam of the moon.
Luna be her saviour.
And in her little black heart she
burns for her.
She smells of cinnamon and camphor,
And she will never be yours,
You'll never have her truely,
Because you can not possess her.
Serpentine,
Her forked tongue will lick your burning
wounds,
Flexuose, and you are seduced.
Her skin is soft,
But her heart is worn,
She has been broken before.
She stitches up her mouth,
She would never tell a secret.
She stitches up her ears,
She won't hear your lies,
She stitches up her eyes,
So you won't have to see her cry.
Her mind is her enemy,
Her soul forgotten,
This her life,
And her greatest Disorder...

(c) Bethanie Martell, 5th October 2004

Copyright © xMizeriex ... [ 2005-01-31 11:01:05]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: ''My Disorder II...'' (User Rating: 1 )
by Quilted_rag_doll on Tuesday, 8th February 2005 @ 09:43:24 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

She stitches up her mouth,
She would never tell a secret.
She stitches up her ears,
She won't hear your lies,
She stitches up her eyes,
So you won't have to see her cry.
Her mind is her enemy,
Her soul forgotten,
This her life,
And her greatest Disorder...

very good...i love the ending...at the beginnning it was kinda here and there, not much form, but you pulled it together there. Wonderful wording, great lines...keep it up...

Auryn

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