:::by hazel:::

Lost. Alone, like frost at midnight.

I�ve been holding his godly breath on my cold lips for days, for weeks. Stalling that last morsel of salvation and complete love in the frozen air. The gas in my lungs has transmuted into solid, expanding these balloons into waste buckets of desire. I�ve been yearning and churning my heart into soil, been planting myself in a pot of stale gold. And now he�s left me drowning in sodium springs, only dreaming of his pale touch. My love for him, the mere yearning to hear him breathe, watch him blink, tears me. I adore his innocent bare hands� they used to intertwine with mine, like a grapevine swaying with the hush wind. The wind has stilled, and so have we.

Nil. Five years, all gone astray in one day. I�ve grown numb to this torture� given up, dumped my crying tea into harbors of scorn, and still, I cannot bear. He last smelled of morning herbs, violets blooming in the spring, a darling bouquet of bluebells, a smell that will scar me for years to come.

�I have experienc'd
The worst, the World can wreak on me--the worst
That can make Life indifferent, yet disturb
With whisper'd Discontents the dying prayer--
I have beheld the whole of all, wherein
My Heart had any interest in this Life,
To be disrent and torn from off my Hopes
That nothing now is left. Why then live on ?
That Hostage, which the world had in it's keeping
Given by me as a Pledge that I would live--
That Hope of Her, say rather, that pure Faith
In her fix'd Love, which held me to keep truce
With the Tyranny of Life--is gone ah ! whither ?
What boots it to reply ? 'tis gone ! and now
Well may I break this Pact, this League of Blood
That ties me to myself--and break I shall !�

- Samuel Taylor Coleridge �Despair�

<< 2002-09-24 @ 3:00 p.m. >>

| virgin | slut | about | bitch | bitch more | brains |
| call us | girls' night out | dressed us up |
| man in our lives |

receive an e-mail when femmeproject is updated:

email:
Powered by NotifyList.com