I’m under steam pressure, hissing,
And darkness comes like a vale.
To myself, I am whispering,
“I will make all things well.”
I will fix everything.
I hear the screams of struggle;
Acid words, love does eclipse.
My siblings ‘round me tremble.
Like fire, anger flies from lips.
I have vowed not to stumble.
One retires to his empty room,
With no body to warm his bed.
A couch, the other lays on like a tomb,
Taking pills to numb her head.
I will wait for the light to bloom.
Good news then disguises
Itself as a blow to house and mind.
My brother stands up and rages.
The young ones cry themselves blind.
I stand. My downturned face, it blazes.
The news of their plans were like a sweet song.
And the shame I felt at feeling relief,
At no longer having to be strong,
Was as crippling as the erroneous belief
I needed to be lifelong.
But down with shame!
The news though bad, was excellent,
For this meant for us no more pain
Of watching our foundation grow desolate.
No longer, do I have to feel shame or blame.
i don’t get why we need driver’s training. driving is just like mario kart except slower and you can’t throw blue shells at people
please never drive
the worst feeling about trying to draw is being a mediocre artist. You realize you’re not terrible and family and friends who can’t draw at all tell you all the time how amazing you are, but you, as the artist, have seen what amazing really is and you realize that it isn’t you.
Wow… I have never related so well to a post.
stravinsky’s rite of spring is about a girl who dances herself to death to appease the russian god of spring.
when it premiered the crowd got so amped up they opened up a mosh pit in the theater and the night would be forever known as the “riot of spring”
classical music is more metal than metal