Silently you determine who I am.
picking and pricking inside of me.
My head is your demand,
trying to unravel the real me.
Crying and dying, surrendering my time.
Treasuring memories, nothing here to find.
Depending on my soul, but then you let me go, from what you've realized.
I bleed no more than you, I eat, sleep and shit too. I dream away the night to be what I might find inside your sight, but only to see that it's not really me.
Who would you like me to be?
Then... what would you truly believe?
I'm not that kewl folks.
xoxo qui
10:35 p.m. - 2003-02-12
Recent entries:
you have arrived at your destination - 2015-09-03
Little Black Book - 2015-08-03
happiness. - 2015-06-18
Quiet riot. - 2014-01-08
Note to self. - 2014-01-02
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