"what's your favourite thing about me?" she asked.

she was chaos to me. she was  uncontrollable; she was a landscape - a waterfall, never ending and ever-flowing with a groundbreaking view. she had it all. she was untouchable, she was proud, yet she was vulnerable, she loved with every ounce of her. she was headstrong, yet she was delicate, and she was honest, she was real. she was like electricity, she was a thunderstorm, crashing and creating, and formed an unbreakable sight. she was a masterpiece. she could fuel a fire, and she could put one out, and although she was forever absent, she was always present, and she was mine. she was thrilling; she had a universe in her eyes, and i wasn't sure whether or not it was too great to venture into.

"all of you," i replied, "every last bit."

i have the house to myself once again.
i would always tell you when i was alone
because i hated being lonely
and although no one can hear me
i keep my thoughts under lock and key
and i keep my music through my earphones
and i keep my love to my loved one.
i sit alone in a blank room,
in an empty space
where i could do anything in the world
yet i still keep every piece and element i own to myself.
i never did like to bother anyone else.

Like a pretty and clear mirror                                                                               That reflects our pictures anytime ,                                                                         Our images do  the same work ...                                                                         If we understand others fully,then                                                                           We can give excellently our points-of-views                                                           Greatly,wonderfully,and clearly about                                                                   People anywhere and everywhere ...                                                                      People like to be praised ,so                                                                                     Never exaggerate things ....

I can already feel the bullet on the roof of my mouth.
I can taste the metal.
It's just the blood that lingers.
Happenings wear down innocence.
Time withers smiles.
They say everyone grows up eventually,
They keep asking when I will.
I've always wondered why people ask questions they know the answer to.
I guess they need to hear someone else say it.
Maybe it's just not real until someone says it aloud.
Maybe you don't know you love someone until you lose them in a crowd.
I think that's the real test
Do you remember what they were wearing?
Do you remember what they look like?
How much time did you spend today looking at them?
It's funny how little you actually remember about someone.
It's funny how much you do too.
I don't remember my mother's birthday, but I do remember what you were wearing the day I met you.
I remember the way you looked up from your coffee and smiled.
I remember your eyes, and how they reminded me of tall evergreens stretching into eternity.
Anything seemed possible when your lips curled into a smile.
I could conquer the world when you curled into my arms.
Even your sighs sounded like they must have been written by some famous composer.
But I guess that's all just love.

We've had my challenges which went quite well
We've had The Who's Awesome series which opened
a lot of eyes. For the record everyone who posts here
good, bad, liked or disliked is awesome.

But this time something different, something that's
really going to put you on the spot should you choose
to participate.

Just write 8 or 10 lines about another writer, why and what
you like about them.

The catch..... If your a man your chosen person has to be
a member of the opposite *** and visa versa.

This could be challenging.

You said you cared once
I wish you'd keep telling me that
Instead of *there's nothing I care about

We talk and I sit there looking at you but your mind has wandered off again,
I have lost your attention and your wasting it on some one who does not care
“Not like I care” “Not like I care” “Not like I care" my mind screams

I anxiously pace around my room
Thinking about that cute boy. Why is he always there in the back of my mind?
“I’m sure he’s not that special” I say hesitantly into the silence trying to make myself believe it but I don’t

When my friends ask
about you
I tell them
that I met you today
My friends marvel at this
But to me
You are a new
beginning
every day

There is no end in such love
Nothing is old here
We age
but our spirit remains the same
and we become
the part of eternal sky