North Star
Silhouettes and shadows dawning each day, as the day passes the solemn stay, concrete and iron strong facts are defenseless against all this forms of emotional tact. Surpassing while undermining every fibrous inch of cynicism and irony, leaving us in a downward binge. That day, I fear, would come forth and I would be back in my loft. Searching for scraps of liver and desire, to patch the gaps of a broken messiah. 
Pensive yet strong thus remain, for the walls may be dust but it will still contain… the essence of a star that has been buried in the sands. Perhaps one day they will burst in awe, as a night sky of fireworks bursting with joy. I just pray that the ignition is worthy of such a display, that a fallen star may once again burn brightly without a spec of gray.
Why do we still look for shooting stars? Which is simply space junk burning through the atmosphere…
cuz ummm we are always looking for junk from space hehe kidding i am still alive here i am writing you something hun? how are things with ya? still so poetic
anyways i dunno if i spell that rite 
love you casehead bye now
Hinano said this on July 5, 2005 at 7:18 pm