She's dry as the acrylics fermenting on her skin; the soulful artist bursting to release a figment of imagination that will surely caress your eyes - she might displease. To her eyes only, you won't read much concerning her; she's rather in between the text. But grow accustomed to her bottomless lyrics and maybe someday you'll understand the mentality of this Battle Field. Till then she bids you adieu, and bedazzles you with a doodle.
nono said,
October 19, 2007 @ 9:31 am
whey we die..
eshda3wa said,
October 19, 2007 @ 10:15 am
when the person that ur directing ur questions to looks like they want to strangle u