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01 April 2009 @ 05:03 pm
Memory Corpse.  
Lately vision has been spare
If not for this lattice screen
To savor excuses for visibility
For the imaginary friend
That won't be there

From eyes, to the keys from
Which you use to type
Guilty, too, in this modern
Age -- factoring: After all,
Hotels do let you go

From designer candles, to
Carnations that burn; Dying
Is an illusion, expiring slowly
Like wine fermenting, if only
Occupied by the ability to yearn

Hands reaching from the walls
Bouquets that leave lasting
Impressions: Lead to depressions
If not on shelves, to cells that
Squirm from the varying void
colbytwentyonecolbytwentyone on April 4th, 2009 02:56 am (UTC)
Kaiden!!! :)
I didn't know you had a LJ. Mind if I add you on here as well? We're already frnds on buzznet and youtube...
kristi_kriminalkristi_kriminal on April 7th, 2009 01:47 pm (UTC)
Emptiness in me is killed by music... My love to the literature Kills depression...I live in the world of the books which I read.
apples_kiwi: cupcakeapples_kiwi on April 8th, 2009 03:33 am (UTC)
Whhhattt the shit! Haha, I didn't see this on my friends page.

I really like commenting on your writing because it means something to me. When I read it I feel myself getting really into it, my mind goes crazy with unrealistic images. I seriously hope you do end up publishing that book, I would love to read it.

Sorry for the random rant of love.

My favorite part of this was the first stanza. (I love my imaginary friend)