Fallout-Laen

Another 3 Am He sits atop a lonely mountaintop which looks high above the city he lives in; the wind blowing through his bones like brain-freezys to the skin  and the chill, crisp taste of October on his tongue. He watches the unnumbered stars and souls set above his lonely city burn and twist and fall like redempt-something and wonders why he can't pronounce the word. The feeling doesn't last. His mind is peaceful and emoty. There are no voices here to cajole him into murderous-rages. There are no doughboys to affect his tentative grip on reality. (They did not walk. They did not speak. The wall did not contain his own personal hell.) The

He's a strangerandadanger without a purpose or a space He's a child of emotions that are always out of place He's keeps those bright feelings, so far back in his eyes He keeps them locked away in this place they really despise It's a tiny little box, no bigger than a hair; But it's always in his chest, beating right next to *there*. He keeps it locked tight with a key known as ice, and he knows it can't be broken with this thing they call 'nice' So based on what he's faced with; He feels like he can't rock. He wanted to taste the day and give everyone a shock; but he can't cuz' this rock called a girl went and killedbroke his heart.

The Sun does remember the last time he saw himself; but, he fully understands that that is not important anymore. Nothing really matters in the spiral of madness. He is alone, but not alone. Other beings inhabit this place of insanity; beasts without shape or form. They are the Dreams; the ones who remind him of the things he cannot (willnot) chose to remember. When they surround him he digs a grave and screams a prayer and wishes them away. Then there are the faceless, asexual bodies made of flame. These are Temptation; and they beckon him into oblivion - into the Fire Rivers which lead to the Bitch's Mouth. They march in file and follow him

You talk about love as if it truly exists. You don't know anything about it, it's the mystic of it all that makes it hard to resist. It's the feeling in your spine that climbs and smolders Or the churning of your stomach as those pouting lips get closer It's a thousand different venerations with a thousand other variations. A word with more connotations than hate but less than friendship. So; friend-girl-thing, here's a question - a kindasortailike you kinda thing - I was just thinking... Hey you... You know, just sorta mumbling... How are you... Kinda, sorta staring... Do you love me? ... .... ..... It's alright. You don't h

Jedi Dance When we battle it is as if we are transcending the physical world. We become one with every parry and thrust. We seperate in dodging leaps and graceful footwork. We slam together with barely outlined fists and blades of crystallized light. It is as if we can anticipate each other's every move and thought. You're breathing hard. You're eyes are looking to the ground. You're not watching me; you're waiting for me to move. It is as if we can both become a singular being made up of violence and the sound of heaving breaths. "YOU NEVER WANTED ME TO HAVE HER!" A flash of jade fire and a swirling, scarlet tempest. Slash and dice and tw