This is my first page I made it for my writings. If you like them or not, send me a line and let me know. I'll add more when I get a chance.
© All text and material under copyright 2000, 2001
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Her:
When she walks in the room the lights get brighter the air smells sweeter. The sound of her voice will melt the hardest of men. Her Slightest touch will make your heart skip a beat. And If you’re ever lucky enough to be touched by her soul your life will never be the same. She'll raise your sprits, she'll raise your dreams. She'll make you feel a way about your world that you haven't felt since childhood. You'll long to be a hero not for goods or gifts but because she loves you. She'll become the sun, stars and the moon. You'll know all you are is because of her love. She'll be all these things and more, but above all she will be part of your very entity.
P. L. Bogart
WASTE
There she sits across the room as I stare with lust in my eyes upon her. So beautiful in so many ways. With skin so smooth one touch brings chills down your spine. Eyes you could get lost in for days. Hair soft to the touch and sweet to the smell. Lips full and red as a ripe apple. With legs so firm and smooth that Its a shame their forced to hold up a body. Hands with fingers long and beautiful whose touch will bring tremors through out your body. Her mouth so sensual and moist you could watch her talk for hours. And her stomach so flat and smooth that it makes you want to drink champagne off of it. It's such a shame she's just a waste.
P. L. Bogart
No Way Out
Life is like an old picture show, no real sound just lots of motion. You think you know who I am, you talk like your my best friend, you don't know me at all. You think your life has meaning but in the grand scheme of it, it means shit. I sit here and with every passing moment I fade a little more. She sucks my soul every night, not enough to kill me, just a enough to keep me down. As she lays there asleep dreaming of the love she thinks she found, I lay there thinking of how I will let her down. You sit there and bitch about your open wounds as you stab your self. I wonder if you would still talk to me if you knew how I feel. The only time I like you is when you’re sleeping because you look like your dead. I need to free myself from this pain, the only way I know how will hurt you.
P. L. Bogart .
Dead Inside
Every time we fight I die a little more; I'll be dead soon. I hate the person I've become, no love inside any more, gone, never to return I fear. Only bitterness and hate run through my body now, will it ever stop, I fear not. Every one wonders why I don't fear death, It's because I'm not alive. When you recall you need no one, It's a sad day to know you'll be alone. They say life has it's ups and downs, but when your down so long you start to believe that's where you belong. I must travail the world alone in hopes that love will someday return. They say when you fall you must get up. I say I kind of like the way things look from the ground. I've come to realize the dead ones are the lucky ones.
P. L. Bogart
Lost
I got lost somewhere between where I am and where I am. I'm sick of being ever ones after thought. The one ever one needs but no one wants. I don’t want to be your father, I don't want to be your slut, I Just want to be the one you care about. I make no sense to you and at the same time I'm the only one who relates to you, don't hate me because you don't understand me I'm from a different time. I'm every thing you wish to be and every thing you will never be. Call me crazy well you pull my flesh from my bones. inhale deep and suck my soul, and as I lay there in a pool of my own blood you stand over me pissing on my open wounds. Suck my blood; pull my eyes out, out of their sockets, tie me up and leave me in a dark damp room. All the while I laugh in your face. You think your words can hurt me, but with nothing inside, they do not make a mark. I'm so sick of being broke inside, always being here and never getting there, my life is so fucked up. Someone tell me it's time to die cause I don't want to play the game any more. The only thought of comfort I have of late is the thought of when you cease to exist.
P. L. Bogart
The world
The world is full of bullshit, society is full of bullshit, people are full of bullshit and my life is made of different layers of bullshit. They sit there and procrastinate well the cancer inside eats them away, I think it's funny. As I sit here the sheep in the next room sit and watch the lies, always believing what they see. Can't they see they only want to rape them. They sit there like cockroaches eating and sucking every thing they can, until they’re confronted and then they run into the dark, someday someone will step on them. They think there funny they make me sick, I long to see their rotten flesh. When I see there faces I long to smash them, when they talk I long to suffocate them with a pillow. There so fake I wish they would Just die. As I stand over there corpses, I have but one regret that I can kill them only once. Nothing really matters any more the world is just a big whore, set to blow who ever has the money or the game. If It's all the same I'll just sit over here in the corner.
P. L. Bogart
True Intentions
Some say it's cruel, some just don't care. I'm one of the latter, I believe every one wants some thing, some your body, some your mind and others your heart. Myself, I want money or things and what will I give you ask? I will give my mind and on occasion my body, but never my heart. Sound strange, well it's not, when you have been around and seen it all and still get no where then we'll see how you feel. As you see I don't want love or trust, I want money and things. You may call me a user or a manipulator, but when I'm with them they are my world for that instant, they are the sun that sets in my eyes, the wind that gently pass's over my face, but just as the sun sets so do they. For you see they all must know that when one leaves another is sure to arrive. Some say there angry, others say it's ok, it makes no difference for they'll all be gone someday. So I'll stay In my ways only after what I can get not with cruel Intentions, but with true intentions.
P. L. Bogart
Rebecca
Rebecca what does it mean to me? It's a voice I long to hear, a voice I've grown to fear. It's a touch I long to feel, a touch that gives me chills. A person I long to love, a person I long to hurt. The summer sun gently warming my body, the winter wind slowly freezing me. The sun light shinning through the window, the cold dark that surrounds me in bed at night. The gentle kiss early in the morning, a babies cry in the middle of the night. For you see she means all these things and more to me, she is someone I love and someone I hate. As you see she will always be these things to me. But most important of all is she will always be part of me.
P. L. Bogart
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