to those of you that dont know, wild indians make good husbands. some cautionary advice: if you try to take MY indian, have no doubt in your mind that your death will be most painful, gorey, and brutal. think tarentino. some might call me possessive. those people are the ones that have never been in love before.
random other stuff. i think in colors and words swim around in my body and my blood is made of paint. i like to rain dance and play video games and cook fried rice. i adore making my husband laugh, because it lights up my world. i love him more than i can say, but thats been said. my goal in life is to find a way to express the way i truly feel about him. we are nothing short of epic. i havent written in a while, but you can be sure that everything new that you see on my page will be about him. or food. because i really like food. my inner child is completely obese.
random other stuff. i think in colors and words swim around in my body and my blood is made of paint. i like to rain dance and play video games and cook fried rice. i adore making my husband laugh, because it lights up my world. i love him more than i can say, but thats been said. my goal in life is to find a way to express the way i truly feel about him. we are nothing short of epic. i havent written in a while, but you can be sure that everything new that you see on my page will be about him. or food. because i really like food. my inner child is completely obese.
- Last seen on Feb 13 12:26 AM. Member since June 22, 2004.
- I'm a lapisLazuli dream poet for 341 comments.
- My mood is , and quote is "My Lips Taste Like A Loaded Gun".
- I am a 18 year old girl from California (United States)
- When I'm not writing, I'm Mr. Miyagi.
- Visit my homepage at myspace.com/theutopian
- I am in the groups for the Love of Rock
- I have 341 comments, 6 contests
My Poetry
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in endless tides of yellow light
of grass and birds and trees28 lines, 1 comment, October 25, 2007 -
you had changing faces
in many sunlit places
My Stories
1 - 3 of 4
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She stood shivering in her torn cotton dress, the icy kiss of the winter breeze filtering from the ocean onto the open terrace where she was called to wait. She hugged her own1696 lines, 5 comments, March 29, 2005. In <200 lines, Fantasy
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A knock on the door. The beautiful lilting notes from the piano stopped rolling. Perfect black curls bounced vivaciously as she slowly turned her head to the rich oak door. She
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You ask me for perfection, dearest
I shall give it to you368 lines, June 23, 2004. In <200 lines, Inspirational
