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Mars.

Sun Jan 6, 2008, 12:10 AM
  • Mood: Isolated
  • Listening to: Leonard Cohen and Warren Zevon.
  • Drinking: Tea
I think my soul is crying for a pen.
My head for a drug.
My body for sleep.
My arms for warmpth.
A story to tell.

I'm a world away.

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it's foggy here -- driving home was drawn out and practically rewound -- and i know where you're at.

--
i'd love to get inside your head, but i've misplaced my scalpel..
it's snow here and fog in my head. Blah.

--
~My only Weapon is Poetry~
/poke

--
~My only Weapon is Poetry~
erm back log sorry what was the journal about lol a bit cryptic for me oh well posting up a few days worth of pics

--
Take my love, take my land,
Take me where I cannot stand.
I don't care, I'm still free,
You can't take the sky from me.
It's all state of mind.

--
~My only Weapon is Poetry~

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