Sitiing here in english lesson. I have got very funny looks of my english teacher.....Maybe she doesn't like the story, like me. Hey, I hate my prose. It always seems so wrong, and imcomplete. Becca has just come over and read me some of her story, its quite imaginative, as always.

Currently my poems are flowing free in my mind, I'm not sure if they are to 'freaky' for people to understand.

Always.
Such a curious word.
Of moonlight,
Oceans,
And forever.

Yet, forever never seems
To take its
Time.
When spilling
From a loved ones
Lips.

Blood red mornings
Clouded with shadows
Fair and..
Pure.
Beautiful and..
Course.

Nails split under the weight of
Dreams lost and
Broken.
Painted..
Black
And gold.
Lies.
And friendship.