the pledge

The devil ripped my soul and lock it in his tiny fiery cage. To have it back, I am now working as a ghost. Think Casper, only less cute. I am directly touch-through, I walk through walls. I don't eat and contrary to popular belief, I do not live under your bed, or in the closet. Specifically I am homeless. I roam the sky. To keep my soul alive I am feeding my heart to the hell-keeper. Yes, the were tore, ripped, swallowed like rabbis rats and then they form again to be ripped again. But I don't participate in pain. Neither my body nor my soul. I made a deal with the devil to make me pain-proof. Ofcourse, I am not haunting. I work like I always do, only that I'm not seen. See, the devil made me a pretty good bargain. By all means I am normal. Just without a soul

the log

Of what should have been me who gets to answer, has been me who had to ask. And I will not tell of my glory. Neither any of my falls. I am not an open book. And I sense that you got overwhelmed in a very crooked way. I am the log that got washed by the sea. And I am not cold but bloated. I stay for any creature to rest and make me shield, of the wave that washes the shells off shore. But I am a log. Those who don't examine will never know of me. And it stays that way. Welcoming to no restrictions, yet no intentions of speedy revelations.

the little weekend crash.

The archaic female gender belonging to the ordinary family tree. The best of friends. The best of laughs. Between honest heart moments and sneaky gossips. Between late night pizzas and afternoon breakfast :P Between cellphones and snail mail. between the rightfully innocent to the super craze. Since Montessori to the almost adulthood. Still strong. Always is. I love you girls. Always will be.