how chians tie

She wears my heart on her sleeve. I wear my pride on my chest. She shows the holes in my soul and how the wind pasts through them. I show them how the pain kills me yet I stand as if nothing is wrong only to pass a tear. She points out my flaws. I stare with a grin knowing I’m imperfect, I’m unique. She begins to tell my story as if she lived it. I begin lower my head. She tales of my faults. I communed her memory knowing her faults out way mine. She remembers me. I know I don’t need her. I can let her go. She has no memory of her self. Her memories are not her own. So I ask her why not tell a story of your past. Why not tell them of your life? Maybe its fill with nothing? False hopes even things buried so deep that there not worth the ties. My chain stands long as I stand proud. A new day can come and I can make that memory. She will get lost in someone else’s mind as a person in the background. I stand as the one making the memory for those people to tell the tale. She stands guarding her wounds. Hiding them behind make up. She’s one that fits in. I’m one that makes the puzzle for her to fit and we are the ones that make the picture. Not in the background but as the focus. When you remember? Why remember that? Who is there?

Reviews

[catofjade]

Oh. My. Gosh. Behind the many spelling errors is an absolute genius, not just at writing, but at LIFE. Sorry, I had to get all fired up there, because This. Is. Too. Good. I could pick a sentence, any sentence, and the truth contained within it and expressed with such virtuosity just boggles the mind. Whoever you are, wherever you are, always, always express yourself with such purity. There is no one like you in the world. And just one more thing: Wow!

[Quattro Hall]

God thank you. I liked this one a lot. Its funny a games title is what give this one birth. I find myself reading things like titles, the few words and well making things like poems. thank you again.