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chelseyashfordphotography:

Sunday, November 28, 2010

My temple, My movie.

I have lived my life as a romanticized movie. I was always waiting for someone to walk into it, or someone to walk out of it. Somehow they were supposed to make a difference in my life, change my mind, touch my heart, or inspire my soul. But I…

(via chelseyashfordphotography-deact)

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thesiamese:

The Third & The Seventh by Alex Roman

This is all CGI and it is utterly amazing. It’s pretty photo-realistic.

(Source: lesiamese)

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Im not yours, and youre not mineBut we can sit and pass the timeNo fighting wars, no ringing chimesWere just feeling fineThis is where were supposed to beSitting by a broken treeNo tragedy, no poetryJust staring at the skyI could wait a thousand hoursStay the same in sun and showersPick apart a hundred flowersJust to be quietTell me when you feel readyIm the one, theres not too manyHold my hand to keep me steadyJust to be quietWith youI like it here beside you dearYoure even more than you appearAnd in the clouds my head is clearEvery time you say helloSo heres my heart, and heres my mouthAnd I cant help if things come outCause there are words I want to shoutBut maybe Ill stay low

Im not yours, and youre not mine
But we can sit and pass the time
No fighting wars, no ringing chimes
Were just feeling fine
This is where were supposed to be
Sitting by a broken tree
No tragedy, no poetry
Just staring at the sky

I could wait a thousand hours
Stay the same in sun and showers
Pick apart a hundred flowers
Just to be quiet
Tell me when you feel ready
Im the one, theres not too many
Hold my hand to keep me steady
Just to be quiet
With you

I like it here beside you dear
Youre even more than you appear
And in the clouds my head is clear
Every time you say hello

So heres my heart, and heres my mouth
And I cant help if things come out
Cause there are words I want to shout
But maybe Ill stay low

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When someone tells me god works in mysterious ways, all it says to me is the world is crazy and your god doesn’t make any sense.

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The Humanitarians

The smell of home, that dreadful tone

You can taste the age in the air

Familiar faces in unknown spaces

There’s no discrimination there

Similar halls and peachy walls

Wrinkled skin and scribbling pins

Diagnosed ink filled pages

Drawn up arms with helpless charms

Servants choosing what we wear

Don’t get out of bed

Or you’ll bump an old head

Or so they have said

Some bring gifts, and cards, and care

Others walls are completely bear

All alone

Not even a phone

Can give them their freedom I swear

Arcadian rhythm is thrown such a mess

While the cube of these walls retract with such jest

Electric locks replace the old bars

If I could only get to the cars

Removable bones and rolling chairs

Help to drains and unknown names

Broken down flesh

Blackened, yet fresh

A falling star visits today

So I can no longer bear

I’ll visit my personal heaven today

Red and white lights

As servants take flight

A sigh of relief as I smile with no teeth

And I take that last breath

As they arrive to what’s left

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Occult

Parting flesh is such a mess

To the sheets and the mind I would say

A family will sin just so they’ll win

But they’ll lose, because they can’t change a thing

What’s done has been done

And I fear that I’ve won

The battle of health anyway.

I’ll outlast them all

And I’ll have a great ball

Just as soon as I get my back off the wall.

You’ve had me pinned there

So why do I stare

At the way I’ve been over the fall

The fall of myself and the fall of my health

Brings the most comfort I’ve felt

As she removed my old belt

My mind is perplexed at the ways I obsess

As her hips sway in my gaze of her ways

A fingertip brush on the waist of a lush

Orgasmic filled twitch with her hips

A tongue on the ear and a bite cause such cheer

For what is to come is so near.

Hand clasped in hand

The grip is so grand

Time is apparently not what it seems.

My perspective has changed

This doesn’t feel strange

As I’ve opened the seams of her lips

A gentle embrace is all that it takes

As our hips stir here to there.

I fear if I cease to continue this lust

Then my heart will scream as it busts.

My heart could have been, a door left unclosed

Until I’d felt the tingling of your nose

My mind was so meek

Before a creamy white dream fills the mouth of her seam

I’ll sleep so damn well as my hearts dried out well

Becomes a gorge for a rainy day flood to fulfill.