samm (:'s Profile

About me:the sun has risen to it's highest extent, but still she lay there in solitude. thrown on the floor sulking for her mistakes that have higher dues than she knew.

the sun cannot unrise, you see. the rays cannot be stolen from the skin of those who seek warmth. You see, the sun cannot unrise because we will not forget that it has risen.

she has laid her future down with sticks and stones that she's managed to pull from the sides of the trail but where are the bodies of life helping her lay her path? there are no hands brushing hers. she is alone.

you see, a sun cannot rise without the help of the falling moon.
you see, a girl can have no future if there's no one beside her.
Member Since:November 15, 2010
Last Login:October 31, 2013
Location:Wausau, WI
Birthday:October 22
Music means to me:it's euphoric. it carries me into a dream....
Schools:UWMC
General Interests:Let's get the boomers and smoke the herb.
And oh, have you seen Molly?
Other Distractions:Photography, Hiking, Camping, Pumpkin Carving, Art Creating, Writing, Listening to Music,

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samm (:'s Journal

tearing at the invisible cloth of insanity
Sat 11/20/2010 10:31AM
the sun has risen to it's highest extent, but still she lay there in solitude. thrown on the floor sulking for her mistakes that have higher dues than she knew. the sun cannot unrise, you see. the rays cannot be stolen from the skin of those who seek warmth. You see, the sun cannot unrise because we will not forget that it has risen
Time to let it grow
Sat 11/20/2010 10:30AM
Press to the ground by the feet of a careless hiker, the grass will rise again. Maybe it will not rise right away, but it will soon enough. It cannot be held down against it's own will for much longer than the sun can stop shining because the moon wants to take over
hide me
Sat 11/20/2010 10:30AM
the tears swell in her eyes as she stares at the dying grass. Sounds of passing cars awake her from trance. as she brushes the tear from her cheek, she looks to her arms. Goose bumps pronounce from her skin. the friction of her hands rubbing on her skin keeps her mind occupied. blowing slightly, the wind pushes her hair onto her wet cheek. A bee searches the grass for any flower, any at all, to suck the sweet nectar out of. Closing her eyes, she takes a breath and thinks to herself "i just don't know anymore" Her face is pale. Her lips are dry. Hiding her face within her hands, she lets one more tear go before she pulls herself up to climb the mountain she's about to trudge up