Sometimes the pain's too strong to bare...and life gets so hard you just don't care. You feel so alone you just sit and cry...every second you wish you could die. Then you start thinking who would care...if one day they woke up-and you weren't there.
Rubima
Searching among the last remains of Rubia, I stumbled upon the inscriptions of Raima, The words printed in bold, smeared in parfum, My eyes rigid on the sketch of love, Rubima. Set when the women were young, They held an affiliation too close, Fear in their eyes, dampness in their breath, They met behind the barn near the cellar. The creeping vine, a safe haven, from the observer, They engaged in recreation that the society turned their back on, They explored the thinness between their clothes, They shared the revelation that once stayed with them. They searched catlike, they squeezed with ease, They bared to illustrate felony of law, They undressed with nothing to hide, They exposed their better parts, with emotions untainted. They slowly moved to mutualism, They shared belongings not meant to be though, They sensed the need though the fear loomed, Yet the old barn kept the worship undeterred. They painted castles on the barn fence, With colors unknown, they ...
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