The body turned from the sun long ago knowing that inside wanted to be free, but never knowing how to to let go or reach out. Inside is broken and dark, cold and forgotten. To warm, fix , and remember the heart has to face the truth and the truth is lots dirtier then any lie.
Alone and wanting love, but know in the center of heart it will never come it waits in sleep, dreaming dream that get locked away to wither and die it waits for the answering beat to hear the cry so may have screamed. Will the answer ever come or like so many will a cry so loud fall silent in the end?
Writers Notes
((Don't read to much into this, it goes along with the other journal, these are just ideas for a story I'm playing with. To my friends it really is just an idea don't worry.^^))








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"The pink, fuzzy bunnies are attacking. You have been warned"
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