... my other garden ;)

About Me

My photo
I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Adele Overload

*a first fave from still a bit unknown Adele ... found once with Lani Gel ;) under some Marked files ;)

Should I give up or should I just keep chasing pavements
Even if it leads nowhere?
Or would it be a waste even if I knew my place
Should I leave it there?
Should I give up or should I just keep on chasing pavements
Should I just keep on chasing pavements?




**something from MyFayie ... her famous break-up song she shared after mine with Joel
some time ago I wrote something in blender on broken heartsand broken tables ...


By Lilla
Date: 2008 Oct 03
Comment on this Work
[[2008.10.03.10.38.12821]]
when tables turn, hearts get broken

"Are you happy with him?" ... he asked.

"He makes me happy." ... I whispered.

"You didn't answer my question." ... he probed.

"That's my answer." ... I went.

It's even now.


Under haunted skies I see you ooh
Where love is lost, your ghost is found
I've braved a hundred storms to leave you
As hard as you try, no I will never be knocked down

I can't keep up with your turning tables
Under your thumb, I can't breathe




***in betweens ... I said goodbye to someone I loved a little late in life ... and fell for someone else (again) a little late in life ... I keep doing this ... I deserve God's memo for tardiness :(

I know I have a fickle heart
And a bitterness and a wandering eye and a heaviness in my head



****... here's to someone like him ... a face I can't show ... a name I can't even say. Never.

You know how the time flies
Only yesterday was the time of our lives
We were born and raised in a summer haze
Bound by the surprise of our glory days


No comments:

Post a Comment

Followers

Blog Archive