not every emotion is based on the fire of the small candle that lies dormant somewhere deep within us, waiting only to a small gust of wind or rain storm?
pleasure. Desire. Love. Passion. Joy. Happiness. Longing.
anger. Anger. Disappointment. Mistrust. Hatred. Mourning. Misery.
And what if the fire goes out? What if the flames are so murderous, leaving nothing but a heap of ashes from the - someday, maybe, possibly - a phoenix flies away, with feathers as bright as the night?
He was fire. I was ice.
And what a magical way to die, but it was and how infinitely sweet taste of death.
I melted under his hand and he was drowned in the toxic blue.
and can not let go. From the rhythm and swing babble. Silent figures and listen to their songs. Unloading and love.
"You're the only person who understands me." Whisper sounds even a death sentence so wonderfully beautiful. "You're the only person I ever had."
I was ice. He was fire.
go out and burning. Swim and drowned.
The steps to the dance of lovers I had dominated before.
pleasure. Desire. Love. Passion. Joy. Happiness. Longing.
anger. Anger. Disappointment. Mistrust. Hatred. Mourning. Misery.
And what if the fire goes out? What if the flames are so murderous, leaving nothing but a heap of ashes from the - someday, maybe, possibly - a phoenix flies away, with feathers as bright as the night?
He was fire. I was ice.
And what a magical way to die, but it was and how infinitely sweet taste of death.
I melted under his hand and he was drowned in the toxic blue.
and can not let go. From the rhythm and swing babble. Silent figures and listen to their songs. Unloading and love.
"You're the only person who understands me." Whisper sounds even a death sentence so wonderfully beautiful. "You're the only person I ever had."
I was ice. He was fire.
go out and burning. Swim and drowned.
The steps to the dance of lovers I had dominated before.
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