My soul has found inner peace...

Utada Hikaru - Passion
by ijeannie

*sigh*

>_>

I liken eating ice-cream to falling into the darkest pit of hell.

I Changed my Yahoo! Messenger Status

I changed my Yahoo! messenger status;
I changed it to,
"No one loves me."

I changed my Yahoo! messenger status
because the world isn't real anymore.

I changed my Yahoo! messenger status,
because I've a sudden need

to paint ev'ry single thing of mine
the darkest shade of ebony.

"See that girl walking down the street?
She's forever encased in shadow.

She knows
it is true,
so she changed her Yahoo!
messenger status
to, "No one loves me."

Blue-green Tear Droplets Fell from her Eyes

"Just give me some excuse," I say,
"to set fire to the world and ev'rything that I know."

"Just give me some excuse," I say,
"To stand by the docks and watch the whole city burn."

Yes, blue-green tear droplets fell
from her eyes;
and I am enshrouded
in the grayest of wintry
skies; I don't

see any excuse
to send it up in flames--

just the simple
fact
that the whole
world is

encased
in
snow.

O, wintry snow.

"Just give me some excuse," I say,
"to let the blue-green tear droplets freeze where they fall
from her icy, snowflake eyes,
as she lays
on Old Man Winter's deathbed."

I'll be Walking Down the Street

There is some unseen,
shimmer'ng, spark'ling future
glitter'n' under the city-light-stars.

Somewhere in Tokyo,
somewhere in Osaka;
some place in the U.S.
where my verse can be read.

In just a few years now,
pecking at morning toast,
sipping my English breakfast tea, I'll

be off to work,

be off to read or write;
to keep books, to write poems,
to study animals, or

whatever I decide to do.

I'll be walking down the street,
in the early spring, smiling,
sweater dress short,
but not too much so.

I'll have two cats in the home,
and a delicate hamster,
twitching his or her whiskers like the trembling rain,

a
perfectly perpetual
smile upon

his
or her
face.

I'll be walking down the street;
the sky will always be dark
but kind,
like a sugar-scented
night;
a gentle moon
and soft downy feathers

litter'n' the ground
below

in my
unseen, perfect city.

And as I walk back home
from work,
I'll be singin',

"There is a spark'ling,
unseen future out there,

with glitter'n' city lights
like stars."

At 2:30 AM:

Sleep-Ache,
Heart-Race;

Sin-Fright,
Fire-Bright,

Mid-Night,
Moon-Light,

obscured by the orange clouds.

Hidden-Soul,
Rabbit-Hole,
Blind-Mole,
He-Who-Can't-be-Consoled,

My-Shoe-Soles
are worn and bleeding,

and the sun doesn't shine anymore.

Empty-Face,
a Smile-Chase;

lost is the chance of a
Blank-Slate;

Head-Ache,
Haven't-Slept-as-of-Late,

sinfully pondering
Our-Fate.

Ponderings of the Girl Sitting on the Loveseat

I don't know why I do the things I do.

perhaps I'm indecisive, or
perhaps I'm just a jerk.

I don't know why you do the things you do.

Perhaps you see potential, or
perhaps you're just playing around.

I don't know what will become
of any of this.

I don't really where we are right now,
or where we are going.

As for our destination, well,
I can't recall why we've fallen silent

As of late.

But the birdsong seems to echo through
the islands of my mind, the tiny
tropical passageways leading to

my empty, fool-hearted passions.

I don't know why I think the things I think.

Perhaps I'm really lonely, or
Perhaps I'm just a jerk.