I can't say anything to you, I want to...
Please please please, do this for me, don't do anything.
I bleed with you, for you, because of you.
And there's nothing i can do, but read your life, through a little grey box.
Or what's left of it.
But you can be so much more...

you come out at night
that's when the energy comes
and the dark side's light
and the vampires roam
you strut your rasta wear
and your suicide poem
and a cross from a faith
that died before Jesus came
you're building a mystery

you live in a church
where you sleep with voodoo dolls
and you won't give up the search
for the ghosts in the halls
you wear sandals in the snow
and a smile that won't wash away
can you look out the window
without your shadow getting in the way
oh you're so beautiful
with an edge and a charm
but so careful
when I'm in your arms

'cause you're working
building a mystery
holding on and holding it in
yeah you're working
building a mystery
and choosing so carefully

you woke up screaming aloud
a prayer from your secret god
you feed off our fears
and hold back your tears

give us a tantrum
and a know it all grin
just when we need one
when the evening's thin

oh you're a beautiful
a beautiful fucked up man
you're setting up your
razor wire shrine
~sarah

Now what do i do? I cry in my heart when i think of you. I always will.

You, beautiful Loser

Yes Beautiful, I love you.
I pondered upon the price of having you as a friend and i'd have you know that I am grateful that i have you in my life.
I love your honestly, bluntness delivered in love,
I love your fierce sense of loyalty
I love how you refuse to be shortchanged and only demand the best for others as well.

You're pretty much amazing.

Obsessions, it's like sex

She's the face on the radio
She's the body on the morning show
She's there shaking it out on the scene
And she's the colour of a magazine
She's employed where the sun don't set
And she's the shape of a cigarette
And she's the shake of a tambourine
And she's the colour of a magazine
She is strung out on a TV dream
And she's the taste of the gasoline
And she's as similar as you can get
To the shape of a cigarette
~She's in fashion.

A!

It was great seeing her in again... alive and kicking
~dennis

Yes we all felt that way... relieved, joyous, and affectionate.
We'll wait.

Dennis

Off Debbie's blog:

Love begins with a feeling of security, you are warm with a sense of nearness, even when apart. You want nearness, but near or far, you know she's yours and you can wait.
Love takes root slowly and grows with time. Two people do not fall into love, they grow into love
Love is not a feeling, love is a decision, a commitment to a person. Love remains established through whatever life throws at it
Love leads you up. It makes you look up, think up. It makes you a better person than you were before.

True yes? *hug*