|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
The uncolored tattoo"I want to be just like her"
Shes creative, Beautiful, and a strong person
I tell my mom how wonderful my amazing cousin is
Her phases obviously phase my mom
All iv'e done can't compare to all her accomplishments
A role model, I'm lucky to know her
Not focusing on her wrong decisions
But focusing on how she overcame those decisions
Worried she'll disown me
Wondering if she'll only see me as a freak
Will she be proud or ashamed
Won't she respect my pursuit of happiness?
Your style can't change your personality
Your style can certainly define you
I love who I am
And i'm excited to know who I will be
The Unspoken DreamFeelings I wouldn't have sensed before
Wondering if they are true
Unexceptionable feelings of adore
I wonder if my heart already knew
I know it's all a dream
But it all seemed so real
Everything looked as it seems
With my mind i'll make a deal
Only the one scene stood out
It was outlandish but entrancing
My heart was clear and loud
My head was left dancing
The unspoken dream I can't dare repeat
It was unnatural, silly, and crude
It had a charm but my pleasure must is discreet
I have to forget it before my dreams are viewed
Mysterious life of a catOne day i wanted to see what a cat does all day so i followed my dear tiger. we walked a while then he stopped and fell asleep so i went back inside.
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
Keep in Touch!