“22 MARCH 2006” Today was a blind date, With the devil in my pocket, I expected it the worse and indeed, it might be! Friday I shall know if there is help for addict (I hate this word) as it is prescribing dugs I was given, barbiturates are the name of the game… While the poison destroyed my organs without I shall be in fits of (I wish; laughter’s, but the true is…) I am rotting from the inside. How cruel how twisted, I have never being told so often, oh well I look! Death must be beautiful reflecting upon their faces. Well it is true that my insomnia problem is so deep that barbiturates were the only alternative. Despise me knows this is not true…. However, when you go private and you doctor is supposedly one of the best, because it treats the stars. Well, I know why they all smiles, 2 weeks after being dump… Broken hearts, one pills and all is forgotten… So here I am. Seating on the steps of Elvis watching the snowbirds... Even if I still do not stuffs my face with peanut butter! I, soon as I mention the word barbiturates, the all place shook with tremors! A miracle of science i was told, considering I manage to get a first degree in November and works 40 hours/weeks! While pump up with millions of pills… All the junks I kept all the things I loved, so much to thinks about, if the news is bad… Nevertheless, I have a gut feelings I be ok… Yes or not? I shall blossom upon the snow, On the tip of the mountain! Why writing the true in some dyslexic prose’s? Maybe because for 10 years I was not allowed to speak! Maybe because the child learns to communicate through visual Hysterias? Does it really matter…? What most important, is… Simply what you are reading is reality, Disguise through the mask of poetry, Where no boundaries exist or frontiers! I am free…. COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

THE MEANING OF LIFE, WHAT IS U TALKING ABOUT?

AS TIME GOES ALONGS, MEMORIES LIKE BUBBLE IN A DIRTY BATH REAPPEARS!
SO IT IS TIME TO UPDATE THIS CHRONICLE OF THE NOCTAMBULE I AM, WITH HIS DISFONCTIONNAL DISLEXIC MIND!

The sinner in me reflects upon what we call life, I suppose…
What is life?
So many intellectuals have tried to put some label upon an empty word.
Yes of course, we could used all kind of nouns, adjectives etc…such as;
-nature, freedom of mind, breathing, warm, opening your eyes in the morning light, enlighten, family, emotions, feelings ( not quite the same) and so much more…
What a waste of time, life is what we make of it.

I guess my gut feeling is, my life is what I have achieve so far but then again, call it ironic, is what I have experiences so far.
Let see:

from a seed to 10 years old.

-from the tender age of innocence
-being beaten while mother is at works, with knuckle belt, hiding in placard.
-by 7 learn to take my trouser down so i won`t be bullied at school.
-a drunk abusive father, a neurotic mother, traumatise so I wet my bed till 11 years old, divorce, running away in the middle of the night so we may not be kill by my paternal when he got back from work.
- living in perpetual fear.

10 to 11 years old.-

-Tribunal put me in my grand-parents care till the city council gave my mother a new place to live.
- My mum coming to visit me every week ends by train.
- Discovering the countryside.
- Being close to my cousin (same age, brother` daughter of my mum).

- 11 to 12 years old.

-Molested.

-12 to 18 years old.

-moving back with my mum.
-stop wetting my bed.
- starting to listen to the Cure and become a fanatic of Robert Smith lyrics.
-looking like Robert smith!
-meeting my ex-girlfriend, Christelle.
-being bullied.
- realising something about my sexuality.
- start working at 15.-live in a garage from 15 to 17 years old.
- Rape in Paris.
- Meet foster familly, Maingaut.
-hate working in hospitality.
-being put at the age of 15 on medications, mostly benzodiazepines.
- Depression
-suicide attempts, 3 to be precise, cry of help?
- Overdose in medications, in a coma for 3 days.
-loss all…
-put in a psychiatric unit for 9 months
-put again in psychiatric unit for 1 week.
- Mother can’t cope, finding a job or out!
- find ads in the newspaper for a job in the UK.
-move to Leatherhead, surrey.

18 to 30 years old.

- First boyfriend.
-First time making “real” love.
-father died when 19.
-Christelle commits suicide age 22.RIP.
- become a top hooker in various agency, under age (19).
- sugar daddy,famous priest in london.( the pervert has picture of himself shaking hand with the queen , that the real one! hanging in his flat)
- stuck in the past.
- Punk and new wave.
- Pet rat.
- learning the true meaning of friendship.
- become addicted to psychotropic drugs and methadone.
-detoxify for 15 weeks in the Mausdley hospital at 23.
- cut out all contact with my family except for my little brother.
- write endless letter to mother, never post them.
- Finally post letter to mum for my soon to be, 30 birthday.
-mum come to my birthday.
- become popular in the circus of show byzzzzzzz.
- Endless party with A-list (not impress)
- saw Cure many times; still think the guy is one of the best lyrist of this century.
-suicide attempts.
- stop self mutilating.
-6 years of intense therapy.
- start working in Tony and guy.
-turn my life around.
- take the decision to work part time, to get back into creativity.
- applied to university.
- do a BTEC, pass with merit.

30 till today…

- got accepted to do a degree.
- pass my degree first class while working week end.
- meet my angel, falls madly in love.
- take my lover in France.
-feeling rather happy for the first time.
- Relationship breakdown.
-back on medications.
-diagnosed with anxiety disorder and OCD.
- bought my first dog.
- got two dogs.
- buy my flat.
- Still after 5 years no recover from the breakdown of my relationship.
- put on heavy medications till now.
- Insomniac.
- computer GEEKS.
- battle each day to find the desire to breaths.
- work in a salon till I get a job in my study, 50 hours a week, sweat shop!
- hoping for love?
- won’t quit! For the sake of my dogs and family.
- start a BLOG, why?
-2006- Determined to see the light I once met.
- No happy, not unhappy…stable.
- write; make animation (my degree in digital arts).
- bought pygmy marmoset, cute and loveable.
- waiting for mister right!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
- had fit in june, serious.
- wish impossible things...
- prescribe barbiturates (TUINAL)+ xanax + valium to sleep & functioned.(meaning still working 50 hours a week)
- still despise years of abuse a sexy mother fucker;-)
- want to stop meds this year!
- start some heathly lifestyle, one step at the time.
- stop smoking for the past 2 weeks!
- feeling like coming from along way, starting only this year to realise my acheivement.
- still no in bed! 3.44AM.

To be following….

HE DID IT! A little reminder for the insomniac. Listening goodbye "England rose…", despise my deep dislike of Elton Johnnnnnnnnnn! God I remember that day like of if it was yesterday! The all country mourning "the loneliness woman", whose beauty, was at her pinnacle! I was 27 years old. Tonight I listen the all things with different ears. I remember this memories I have block for decades. So it true! While I do not remember the actual touching, the puzzle assembled like logic menaces the canvas of my life! Do I care? Not really! I am too sedated to even remember my name, thank to doctor death! How many barbituriques can one take time? I guess I am going to tuck myself up in bed now, like a flame tormented by the coldest wind, of the soon coming spring, in some inverted order… Why? I guess I could spend the rest of my life, wondering… However, I think I already know the answer to the question mark! Too many drinks, too many beatings, mummy was at work… same old story, different sordid details, i says! I was too young to understand, to even comprehend; the same seed who gave me birth was the one who was robbing me from my innocence! I rather think, he did not even remember himself, despise his souvenirs blend to the ground,in some deliriums crisis, where laid his bones, 42 years old. To me that enough a punishment. I have long forgiven you, despise u have stolen my wings! Moreover, they shall never be enough barbituriques to stop me remember…so be it. Love shall be the keys of these repress memories I guess…. I can barely type let alone play with metaphors like an orphan, with invible toys in an empty bed! So why am I so tempted to swallow the box of Tuinals? like so often the past recent nights...? i won`t! You tell me! COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

YELLOW ROSE. Goodbye little prince, Your smile shall blossom, lost in the breeze… Loneliness & sleepless nights, Won the better of you. In addition, it seems to me, The yellow rose shall never fade…. Goodbye Margot, Remember me with a smile, A broken tear, Shatter diamantes, Burning stars…. I cry I wish I knew you. Long as gone. But the legend shall never died, Thousand of kisses, Now you belong to heaven, Lost above and bellows… Longing for love… Even despise we try, Your memory has departed, To this place. May your sleep in peace, We all knew, However, we choose to be blind! Goodbye my love, The true bring tears, It seems to me, You finally find eternity, Tonight the sky has a new star, They shall miss you, I know I will… I never wish for this end, The true was too deep, To escape your destiny, Broken angel, I hold your souvenir, It is time to say Adieu. COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

ADIEU. Tu es était remplit de passions, De rêves brisés, Quand la pluie frappait sur ton âme, Tu refusais l impossible… Il y a bien lonptemps, Que tu aimais, Même si tes baisées, S était perdu sur le paver. Adieu Des paroles sans fin, Je garde une part de toi, Et n importe ou je suis, tu es las… Ton sourire, Tes regards si tristes, Ils n`y ont pas crut, Et un soir tu es partit dormir… Tout ce qu’ils ont sut dire, Herve a été trouvé nu, La mort fut rapide, Morgue d`amour ! La vérité, J en pleure, Car j aurais chéri, Vibrer de leurs baisées… Adieu, petit prince, Tu as choisit la paix, Et le sommeil, Peut être un jour… Tu retrouveras, La flamme qui frémissait, Tes paroles, Resteront graver. Tu as trouvé ton étoile, Un ciel ou rien de meure, Je ris et pleure, C est mon requiem… COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

www.crowpied.com

secret kills.

H & M .

DEDICATE TO MY TWINS... THIS IS A TRUE STORY. SIAMESE TWINS “Sometimes, good and evil have the same face….” Margot. My first memory was a dream. Why not the souvenir of my mother kissing me or my father’s voice? No, it was a dream nor should I say a nightmare! I am not sure myself… I was flying in the sky; I could feel my gigantic wings flapping in the furious wind, the weight of it upon my back. Everything was so blue, so peaceful, heaven or the make-up of hell? You see, I do not think I was born… Back to my dream, everything suddenly began to turn red; the shedding of blood tears, feeding an ocean of carnage. I felt two menacing hands grabbing me. Next thing I knew, I could hear the sharp noise of the knife slicing through my back. The flapping noise stopped, my wings felt to the scarlet water in a millions feathers. I pushed my first scream and reality took a bite at me. I knew hell had come for me! Sometimes, when they laughter’s becomes unbearable, I try to think that perhaps I was an angel and Satan came to section my wings. It helps me when I feel the stare of peoples on us. The mockery of children’s… My brother usually becomes silent and follows my movements. If I decide to walk, or should I say, if Master Jules asks us to walk, I do, therefore he does. I become the leader during the day, he became mine at night, and thinking about it, I become almost docile to his will… My name is Pluto; my brother’s name is Jupiter. We are Siamese twins. I guess we must be around the age of twenty years old. You see, time is something of which we were both deprive for most of our childhood being lock in a dark room. Until that was, Master Jules came to buy us for his own greed. At the time, it felt like such a blessing act to us, unaware of his real intentions. Therefore, it was the memory of our mother, opening that door, her silhouetted frame in the light behind her-a shadow bringing food and leaving without word. Only thick space and the moan we only knew to speak. It took us a while and plenty of beating to adapt to the modern world. I only found out recently the date in which we are: 1892.may. This day, my brother and I have a job. We are “Show Freaks” and master Jules owns us. We are his attraction. We have been touring many places, it seems we have become something of a legend and- if I may say so- we could have carried on in this way for the rest of our life, but Jupiter did not see it that way… What I believed was a miserable life has turned out to be a waking nightmare. My brother and I have a peculiar relationship. We are attached to our side; we share the same liver and one of our lungs. How funny to think we share the same air but not the same mind. The most distinctive thing between us is our size. I am what you would call quite “petite”. Jupiter had somehow inherited the physical side of us and was twice as big. I tend to loose my balance and my feet’s left in the air when he bends to one side, as if a sack attached to him. As for me I suppose, I do the thinking not that in my eyes, my brother is stupid. How could I say that of my best friend, my only friend…? After all, there is no one else, I can talk to. As the years have passed, the pain seems to have grown in both our hearts. Each morning, still and dreading when Master Jules lifts the heavy velvet curtain from the cage and the peoples discover us with a general exclamation. Their eyes usually open wider, their mouths slightly open-The kids are the first one to laugh. _”Oh, what a hideous creature!” the comments follow… Each day, standing, sitting, running, dancing, and nowhere to hide. Sometimes, through the shame, I see someone smiling and the burden lifts for a short while, but too soon, the tumour begins to grow. I guess, behind the passive, waxy mask of Jupiter, the humiliation of it all was almost as intolerable. Evenings seemed to be the only happy times of our existence. When all the punters had gone, Master Jules would open the cage and let us walk around the fair. We became quite accustomed with the rest of the crew. Our only moment of freedom, well, for a while, until one day we saw the reflection of ourselves in the mirror. It was only then Jupiter decided to go to his roundabout and handicapped by my side, I was left with no alternative but to follow him. Our first excursion was not so bad, I would even say, I took some pleasure from it. Everything we saw was so exciting! So new! I suppose our world had been small until then. The edge of our planet stopped at the end of the fair. Different grounds, sometimes more stony than others do or just plain sand. This was the extent of my knowledge of the outside world. The stars somehow never seemed to change, wherever we went, they always felt so far away. To my astonishment, Jupiter was always back in time for Master Jules. Of course, if he knew, he would have punished us. Have I talked about the punishment? It became a form of ritual. Jupiter and I were never punishes together. Only one of us was to suffer the torture. For torture it was! The dentist trick was the most common. I remember the big, rusty clamp in his ageing hands, they look frail, but the strength of a demon was in him. One of us would open his mouth and one tooth gone! The blood in my mouth, Jupiter would say he could taste it. I knew he did not lie. I could taste his… We are one. One day, the laughter became too unbearable for Jupiter and he decided to turn the table. That night he felt quite agitated, hardly talking to me, just wandering the streets in a hurry. I remember so clearly, the alley was falling under the spell of a silver, dusky light. She looked about ten, probably from a good background, such a pretty dress, lace on the sleeves, silk around her waist, curly blond hair, so purely genetic. The joy of parents who were not standing far away. Jupiter picks up the metal bar from the floor, before she could utter a word, the deadly instrument fell on the side of her head. My eyes closed. My soul felt like running from my body. I wanted so much to be in my cage, listening to the laughter of the little girl, starring at me. I was left with no choice but to open my eyes again and witness the hand of Jupiter holding the bloodied bar. Looking fragile yet with a flame of contempt filling his dark pupils, a sparkle of life I had never witnessed before. I knew, me, Pluto. That my brother had finally taken life into his soul disconnected from the holiness of his emotion. Suppress, not even reborn, awake from that sleepy state he had chosen, when the pain had become near intolerable. He had found a purpose to carry on and make sense of the penitence. The first victim of many. Laughing at us during the day and slaughter like pigs into the fading light. Revenge in his mind was accomplished. Moreover, what thought Pluto of this? I hate red. That was to become my first excuse to stop him, explaining my dream. Nevertheless, my weak tears did not make him stop, to the contrary, he felt even more frenzied. More active in general. As If I had finally given birth to a child, that the soul had come to life. Killing spree carried on. Metal bar. Spike. Knife. Anything Jupiter could get his hands on. Jules was always too drunk to realise what was going on. Broken skulls, poking eyes lay passively upon a stone-like, rosy cheek. Their faces so still, so wax like… Still when Jupiter committed his murder, all I did was close my eyes and look again at the carnage. Sometimes I wonder what our life was to be. I tried to give logic to it, find a clue. Something to give sense to my faith and all I found that was a cloudy answer. I then started to fall off with the disease of faith – was there such a thing as good and evil? Since the murder occurred, my brother and I seem to get even closer. Jupiter became more talkative, we, somehow, started to get to know each other’s minds. After been condemned to spend the rest of our life together. Of course, no mention of our secret evenings was ever spoken during the daytime. Murder became the essence of our developing friendship… I remember the wooden crucifix hanging inside the caravan of master Jules. Very briefly, I had a glimpse of it, as our compartment was a simple shed fill of straw. However, when my eyes felt upon the object, I suddenly felt the disease dying inside me, the agony of the man crucified on the cross. Portray of my fantasy that somehow, someone had suffer and knew what we were going through. The weight of my sorrow was lift and an overwhelming sense of belonging came over me… It will be twenty nights since I felt like this, and in this twenty nights, Jupiter had murder fourteen more children’s. I guess the law of this society will put one and one together- city, murder, fairs…Pluto, Jupiter equals one in some illogical ways. The fear of being caught has never been the issue. Jupiter is my god, my blood brother, my flesh, and my reason to live. My prayer is I will never judge him because somehow the dream has suddenly become clear. It was not the hands of Satan, who hold the knife, which cut my wings, but the claws of purity, I deform angel was not to belong… The seed of guilt had set in my heart and I knew, there was only one door left to open… The balance of justice appeared, big, dark, and somehow sparkling at the same time, waiting for me, Pluto, to become the judge. The cards were in my hands… The balance felt in one side and I knew, what was expected from me, somehow at this stage, it was not anymore a question of choice, but a simple answer, I have been longing for a long time… Jupiter had become the answer of my prayer, in some twisted way. We came back from another nocturnal killing, at this stage the all situation as turn into a black and white movie, projected on the mutilated screen of my mind… Passively seating at the first row, watching the all tragedy. At the usual time, back from our little sinister excursion, we were been lock into our shed of straw… There we laid, a faint smile on my face, it was not long before I could hear the deep sound of sleep coming from Jupiter mouth. Very calmly, I took hold of one of his hiding metal spike. I could hear the melody of the rain beating hard against our barrack, playing with her crystal fingers the requiem of our soon ending life. I firmly grab the deadly weapon on top of my chest and for the last minute, concentrating I listen to the heartbeats of my brother Jupiter. I push hard and felt the pick going through me, the warm of the blood invading my chest, red Carnage Ocean… Jupiter did not take long to die after me. I could have never struck him first, is flesh was mine, is evil too! COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

AWAKING? (A hobbits` night on the town…not!) I still wonder how I manage to types last night, «Gay World»! I guess under the curbs of emotions if you had the usual dolls to help ink for a chronic insomniac like me, and there you are! While the idea was simply to put some dysfunctional words entwined like puppets on a strings, images of my soul, spilling mirrors on the blooded carpet, millions of flaming stars, of my so call “party”… What a party it was… The mood is less, poetic and more manic, I knows somebody, I shall be dancing and singing in the most atrocious voice some French tunes, feeling light while the heart still crying… Well, now, I am sure, I do not belong to the kingdom of Olympia! So why am I so sad? Everyone’s keep smiling but you know those rectums on their faces. Yes, it has to be says it was worth the place of the gods of Olympus! If one, take such importance to physical beauty. All nicely tans, despise, most have not left the Siberian cold we had experience since the past two months! Muscles by the pounds! Flesh expose in some tight tee shirts screaming to comes out! Eyes more often slipping under the belt, last time I went this kind of party must have been more then 10 years. In addition, it all seems so clear, why! Mind you, despise the folklore, I am sure my arrival, must have been like “Zozo the Clown”, here I come! While the party was not very far, I made my journey by bike, nothing special, if you ride a normal bike… Well in my case, a hybrid between some cheddar cheese sandwich and a bicycle, you know this folding bike, “click click” and there you go. I was tempted to says, here you fly…but while, I wish so, you have to pedal hard, the best part being, they do look rather kewl and I loveeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, The name “Spider Bike”. However, like usual I jumps into my labyrinth mind, and forget the core of the story, While, I am still debating if I was going to crush under the heavy breath of “Mickey Finn + Tuinal “which anyway I, sill, have in my blood streams from last night. I was very kindly invited by one of my clients (not that type, I shall get to this chapter soon enough! Keep children’s at bay! Prostitution of under age boy = sound like a good name for a new chapter)! Anyway, this handsome man, we shall call him “A” send me a text, as an appreciation of my services, to officially invited me to his birthday. Now, no offence, I really like him. One because despise he might not being the most passionate person on earth, his heart shine of the Latin sunny spells, warm and deeply moving by pure kindness: = (always safe sex but no common sense…) Therefore, I decided to go simply for him and I am glad deep down, I let my blossom do so. Nevertheless, to get back to the all scenario, as I push the door, my folding bike under my arms, wearing my baggy clothes, looking more like the pizza deliveryman, then a guest, I got the evil eyes Baby! Oh well, as good Oscar Wide would say. It is better to be spoken badly then none at all… There is no other way, to describe the feeling I felt, no-ones made used of their forked tongues, mind you! However, looks was revealing enough! ( if there is one things I knows better then anything in this world is Eyes & their languages!), Jesus, if we had been 2006 years old back I would have been burry under stones, or in this case under the weight of narcissisms! Have you heard the terms of muscle Mary? Well, the all place was crawling with it, like maggots on the decaying body of Stallone! Salt statues staring themselves in mirror, zipper jeans slightly open, top open enough to show the necklaces, tight enough to reveals the pierced nipple and the list goes on…(go watch an erotica gay movie). Yes, I did mention to engage to a keen soul (which I manage to spoke during the night, seating like an ornamental accessory of the new gay trend, French hobbit. Every party need ones!). More brewages, I sure needed it one! So here you are, I knows how felt Frodo the hobbits upon the land of Mordor! Anyway, at least, while all eyes were fixed upon me, when bedtime call me, as the party was on his way to some clubs which I can barely shaking my butts too. Except If, I did enjoyed having pumped up the previous week and apllied a fake tan, hummmmm, maybe not. I shall leave you with this blur souvenir of me unfolding my bike, under the cruel stare of the gay community (which I have been told I belong?), the distinctive mutter laught/ whipers/goosips/ remark of the fake god Olympus. (Fake = steroids= another story)! Ok, my bike might not being the most manly, which is what this peoples are so obsesses manliness, but hey, here you go, Frodo took off after having mutter a goodbye like a pixie on the latest rose petal. How much humiliations, can one take? Despise, I knows, I did rather well. After all, I manage to get the attention of some Greek dish (28 years old). Ok, ok! he did nearly chock when I told him my ages, what wrong with being 35? But hey, that the twist, I don’t have to suffer the gym every week, stack needle in my buttocks to blow up like a doll and cook myself under the UV light, to be a sexy mother fucker, ( escuse my French)! Anyway, I shall never growth old…. How could I? I was never a child in the first place! COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.

GAY SOIREE. Comme un papillon perdu dans des zones désertiques, Ou seul, les fleurs ont sont des osais ! Je me suis perdus dans un monde, qui est supposer m appartenir, un couloir sans issus, ou es murs sont pain de couleurs délavées par des amours éphémères ! Je me suis retrouvé devant un visage, que j ais voulus fuir, et qui semble m`appartenir. L homosapien est bombarder par les larmes, le ciel est gris et ils disent qu’il ont vu ton visage peint sur saturne, ou sont les étoiles ? Je demande, je réclame ! Translation : -I belong to a world call « Gay » While I cannot seem to fit in but in what world do I fit in? All I can think is; -they have created the perfect dream man, Was there a reality for such a dream boy? Moreover, if so where? This is the curse of the silver screen… Slowly disparaging from the mind, like a flu images, some photos, lost on Your tombs, the devil dance tonight upon your grave… I am glad I went, I am glad I experience what I knew, years ago… The clock is ticking despise my lack of faith or believe from it…. Am I not the living proof of such idiotic ideas! He is face crash to the floor, as I mention my ages… Time sadly does leave an impact for the youths! He was pleasant, but maybe not as the dolls. The poison I swallow more and more, Like to a fish’s lover, poem upside sown, I watch the decline of myself, There is nothing left for me…. Nothing so hard, nothing so terrible, They say it is all in the mind. I wonder while I breaths upon your mysteries. Come and hold me, Tell me you love me, this is reality, This is no Victorian story, This is no role model, I a walk like James Dean on the edge of the motorways… As I sleep like Monroe, Dreaming of Norma Jean, Virginia, can you hears me from above? And if you do so, Then, why don’t you let me be, In addition, give me that ounce of happiness, The love, your pen so well…. While it would be perfect, I know the end, so close, I can feel the breeze of the passing memories, Whispering, all must be dust! I should go to bed, What wrong with mister confident, Do I care about his grey hair? Do I care of the weakling under my eyes? However, all I can see is my innocence running upon the snow, Kind of the mountain, Stolen from the goodness “Kate Bush” Do not hate me, I care, I feel. I know, Moreover, search for it too…. However, we both know there is nowhere left to search… Well, for me, that is…. This shall be for my blogs, While there are dancing, Chemical heads on the dance floor, I wish sometimes, I were out there again. However, the lead has broken! I am free. To win or to loose… Therefore, I wish to be dancing in the wood, With the wolfs, One more kisses. There are no ones left, I lost all… So I am must hold on to the sugar honey, Who feed my brain? In addition, wait like sage, The eternal minutes, The decline…. I had it all, but I was rape, I guess the reason I speak so publicly about it, Is for the first time, my memories, Like bubbles popping upon the dark water, Where my body is floating, Ophelia. I wish, soon! I am not sure the details would be that important. Rape is rape… One day. I shall take pleasure to describe the sensations, the feeling to kills Sinner, forgiveness is the only way, For the weak! I am laughing I am no sad, Angelic and satanic! I swing and jump for one side To the other extreme, Where the sound of the river, Requiem of my future journey, I am coming, That is it really matter, What is spellings?. Another form of control. Let the spirit, Play on is own literature playground! This is scary, Two dolls, Moreover, I wish for more, As I can feel the slow decay of the soul, So tomorrow, I can read my sickly rhymes, As there is no water by, Too may things to plans before! I shall leave all of my possessions Probably by mistakes, Giving what seems the meaning, The explanation, To pullulate my mind…. Did it hurt? Snow on rosebud, Beautiful quote, Classic notable, I even feel my finger, Slipping away from the silver screen My last wish, To find the courage, Ainsi sois t`il ! ! COPYRIGHT@2006.H.N.MARGOT.