I am the one who they call a freak, simply becuse of thier own ignorance...
I have short, black hair with white-blonde underneath and usually a ton of product in it (but I'm growing it out, becuse it's a pain in the a**).
I where heavy, black eye liner, jeans, usualy a black shirt, and a sweater, My shoes of recent choice are all black Converse all stars.
I have an eye brow piercing, and two piercings in each ear.
I love to draw, write poatry, ride my horse Vinnie, and watch you while you sleep.
My favorite colors are: black, green, blue, yellow, clear, orange, maroon, purple, teal, midnight sky, navy, sunshine gold, golden rod, red, white, brown, silver, twighlite, peach, blounde, hazel, sparkels, autem leaves, grey, pinkish, sky blue, lime green, chestnut, stawberry blounde, cream, and the color of your eyes.
I also have an identical twin sister. Her user name on Gaia is To Lenore.
I am a lesbian and damn proud of it, trash me on my profile, and you shall feel my wrath!!!
By the way, "coffie's my bith!"
HERE ARE SOME OF MY POAMS.
You clip my wings and tell me to fly
you sew mouth and say 'speak no lie'.
you blur my sight and ask me my stare
now I ask you if you truly care.
Do you know of my other self?
Do you hear my cries for your help?
Go ahead, press your ear up to my mind
your hate for me is nothing but blind.
Listen closely, you can hear my cries
listen closer, you might hear my lies.
Now you presure me to 'just explain'
can't you see now, the anser is plain.
Now your hate for me is still rising
just lock the door to stop my fighting.
You serch for the anser in my eyes
but secretly see my web of lies.
I'll never admit it to be true
that will allways be becuse of you.
Alas! The world we once knew is dead
and a land of fire still remains.
True reality comes but once
behind a glass curtain made of pain.
She is my porcilin doll.
With skin as white as ivory marble,
she pierces me with blue botton eyes.
Yarn hair and little cloth dresses,
moe hair lashes too far to touch.
She sits up on the highest plank,
right beside her fatefull lover.
Dusty pale porcilin and inky eyes,
he grips her hand in his.
I start to climb the lader rungs,
reach up to touch her face.
As my flesh and bone and blood
stroke her cold doll skin,
I feel her pull away.
Bending down close to me now,
her mouth beside my ear,
she gives a breathy whisper,
in her voice, a note of fear.
'You are my love for now and allways,
for if you tell a singal soul,
the grip of nuse I shall feel.'
My breath shall never carry her name,
I hold her but in a dream.
She may turn up once in a moon,
my hand can't help but draw her face.