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More from ~psychotik-mind

Perfect Perfect

She looked young. No more than 18, I hazarded. She wasn't exactly beautiful, but she was pretty. She had a heart-shaped face, framed by long black hair which flowed passed her shoulders, nearly reaching her waist. Her eyes were heavy with mascara and eyeliner, with lips that were painted blood red. A pale pink blush streaked across the apples of her cheeks. She was wearing a simple white tank top accompanied with a vintage-looking bronze necklace, paired with a pair of denim shorts that exposed her thighs. A brown satchel bag hung from her right shoulder. She donned strappy gladiator sandals over her small feet, her toenails painted
Lost Where are you?
Hiding among the stars?
Are you the twinkle that comes and goes,
Like the faith of a wavering soul?

Where are you?
Lost, gone, have you disappeared?
Are you hiding, disenchanted spirit,
What does your broken vision see?

Where are you?
Will thou come back to me?
A physical body does no good,
No good, without spirit, you see.

Where are you, where are you!
I fear it's too late,
Are you near, my dear?
Do you wander here?

Where are you?
Where am I?
Friends, do you know?
I can't find myself, not anymore.

I'm not myself, I'm not myself,
not anymore, not anymore!
tell me, oh please, tell me,

Who am I?
Teenagers versus Teachers "You don't understand!"
Both groups scream at each other.
"We work too hard!"
The teachers shout
"We study too heard!"
The teens shout back.

"We have families to work for!"
The teachers cry.
"We have our futures to study for!"
The teens are in tears.
And back and forth
The accusations are hurled

We scream
Never understanding
We scream
No time for sympathising
We scream
Oblivious to their suffering

And all we can do is scream
All we can do is scream.
Letting Go Trudging on green fields
With yellow flowers, brown mud--

And a heavy heart.

Clutched in hand
Something tied to a string--

A letter stained with sorrow.

She stops in her tracks
Raises her clutched fist--

And releases.

The balloon flies
Towards the blue sky--

As tears flow.

A bittersweet smile
As she whispers to the wind--

"The art of letting go."
Addiction She takes her heart
and locks it up
in the darkest corner of her soul

In her eyes
the fire burns out
replaced by a hatred so cold

She takes her hope
and tosses it out
for love has taken its toll

But,

In her mind
she still knows
her love for love would never go

And,

She knows
no matter how hard she tries
her addiction would be ever so bold.

------------------------------------------------

She takes her heart
and locks it up
in the darkest corner of her soul

but no matter what
her addiction would always be
love,
love,

and love.
Self-Portrait When you look in the mirror
What do you see?
A girl you know so well, that you yell,
Hey! That's me!

Sparkling, intelligent eyes.
Her flowing dark hair, like a river
She smiles with joy and ease.
A face like no other

But if you look closer, and closer,
Your vision becomes clearer,
You see someone totally different, yet
Someone so familar.

When you look in the mirror
What do you see?
Who you really are,
Or who you want to be?

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July 21, 2009
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My Paradox

by ~psychotik-mind

Sitting, staring,
white paper blank,
looking for an inspiration,
to fire up the thinking tank.

Sitting, still staring,
while black words fill the page,
yet i still sense emptiness;
my mind's trapped in a cage.

Then, sitting still, no staring,
laughing away instead,
for i have just realised,
while hitting myself on the head,

I am writing, am i not?
I got inspiration from none!
Oh, what a paradox!
And with this sentence, I’m done!
:iconpsychotik-mind:
haha. something i wrote briefly, just for the fun of it.
No comments have been added yet.

:icon:
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Kurt by ~psychotik-mind
Perfect Perfect

She looked young. No more than 18, I hazarded. She wasn't exactly beautiful, but she was pretty. She had a heart-shaped face, framed by long black hair which flowed passed her shoulders, nearly reaching her waist. Her eyes were heavy with mascara and eyeliner, with lips that were painted blood red. A pale pink blush streaked across the apples of her cheeks. She was wearing a simple white tank top accompanied with a vintage-looking bronze necklace, paired with a pair of denim shorts that exposed her thighs. A brown satchel bag hung from her right shoulder. She donned strappy gladiator sandals over her small feet, her toenails painted Perfect by ~psychotik-mind
Lost Where are you?
Hiding among the stars?
Are you the twinkle that comes and goes,
Like the faith of a wavering soul?

Where are you?
Lost, gone, have you disappeared?
Are you hiding, disenchanted spirit,
What does your broken vision see?

Where are you?
Will thou come back to me?
A physical body does no good,
No good, without spirit, you see.

Where are you, where are you!
I fear it's too late,
Are you near, my dear?
Do you wander here?

Where are you?
Where am I?
Friends, do you know?
I can't find myself, not anymore.

I'm not myself, I'm not myself,
not anymore, not anymore!
tell me, oh please, tell me,

Who am I?Lost by ~psychotik-mind
Teenagers versus Teachers "You don't understand!"
Both groups scream at each other.
"We work too hard!"
The teachers shout
"We study too heard!"
The teens shout back.

"We have families to work for!"
The teachers cry.
"We have our futures to study for!"
The teens are in tears.
And back and forth
The accusations are hurled

We scream
Never understanding
We scream
No time for sympathising
We scream
Oblivious to their suffering

And all we can do is scream
All we can do is scream.Teenagers versus Teachers by ~psychotik-mind
Letting Go Trudging on green fields
With yellow flowers, brown mud--

And a heavy heart.

Clutched in hand
Something tied to a string--

A letter stained with sorrow.

She stops in her tracks
Raises her clutched fist--

And releases.

The balloon flies
Towards the blue sky--

As tears flow.

A bittersweet smile
As she whispers to the wind--

"The art of letting go."Letting Go by ~psychotik-mind
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