dear delilah








Fathers, be good to your daughters; daughters will love like you do.

you are the strength and the weight of her world

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Stream her with roses and daisies, dear mother,
let all that she speak be all that that she hears.
For no higher, no higher let her forehead doth grow;
and so dote, dote my mother, my mother so dear
and let her run free with a conscience so clear


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Sunday, 10 June 2007
Instintual

Sometimes I wish I knew what was going on in my head. The fact that this place seems to be the only place where my words come out exactly the way I want them to doesn't help when I can't say them anymore.

What is more? what is less? And why am I refusing to leave the comfort of my house, to go to the comfort of church? S

Something is holding me back. Either I've really no clue what, or my body has taken an instinctual move to hide it from me. Whichever it is, I'm not happy.

Would someone please just believe me on this?

he told me that I've done alright
and kissed me till the morning light