I'll Attack

I'll Attack by Angela McEwen featuring red watches

Bury Me Bury Me

Golden Afternoon

Golden Afternoon by Angela McEwen featuring beanie hats

Fun Alice in Wonderland Inspired Look

Dusty Spring

Dusty Spring by Angela McEwen featuring leather handbags

Fun flowing spring colours with a hint of romance.

Dusty Sping

Dusty Sping by Angela McEwen featuring suede gloves

I would write symphonies for you that would make angels weep

Once upon a time you had to be Mozart to have your music heard all over the world. Now all you need is a pare of tits. Good music is good. Great music is something the Goddess dances to and the Gods tremble at. When the cosmos sing to you your head should ache from hearing it. Your mind should real and tears should sing down your cheeks. Your body will have no form and it will only move. It will only vibrate. It will only be music. If I had to picture a time and a place to explode into the music.... it would be with you between my legs. We would write the song of ecstasy. The song of hedons, witches, pagans and angels. Queens in jeweled gowns and Kings with swords would bow and bend knees at it's grace when it was unleashed on the ears of the wretched souls and it would lift. It would lift us to heights unbearable.

I would write symphonies for him that would make angels weep.

What a lucky Angela she was.

Covorting with Nothing

I don't mean to fall in love with you more everyday. I know it's not fair. To love someone you don't get to see everyday. To hold every moment. To sing to in the night as time drifts thorough sleeping heart beats. I know it's not fair to love you this much. Especially when there is nothing to know and hold on to as a reciprocating function of lust, desire and romantic foreverness. But I do. Despite failings and fall shorts and amazings and perfections. Despite the fact that I will never live up to your standards. Despite the fact that you live by rules of conduct  and social order of your tribe. I am a water baby floating and an air head bobbing in the little receptacle of this heart and this muddled container of a head. But I think of you daily. I pine for your nightly and hope for you continuously. Like a character from a TV show. Like an after school special. Like a street kid on a roof top staring at stars. My hopes and longing are crushed in a a social order and beauty standard I wasn't born into. I was born into perfect Irish features and Canadian sensibilities. Both of which are kindly and nice. No exotic vavoom just simple quiet lovely that does not speak out. Just a subtle elegance and admirable wonder. No stunning, no gorgeousness, just simple beauty and lovely. Just isn't-she-pretty. If only my heart could make up for my body and face. If only my creative soul could make up for my lack of worldly success. If only my unhampered will could make up for my unwillingness to be a socialite. If only my constant helpful nature could make up for my lack of money. If only my loyalty could make up for my unforgiving idealism. It's easy to love you. I am used to loving people that ignore me. I grew up in a complete state of neglect. Its easy to love someone who is never around. They don't do anything wrong. They stay eternally perfect. They break your heart everyday and everyday you can rebuild it with the imaginary conversations. You can rebuild it with all the things you would be doing if they were with you. You can start a whole romance with a perhaps if. You can build a whole love on split seconds of attention given. I have learned to survive off that. I have learned to survive off 30 seconds of love. My life trained me my life my love splattered mess of blood soaked life of fleeting fleeing love. I could live off nothing. Should I is the question.

He is a dream to me.

What words? I have none. He lays me cold and speechless before him. No man does that to me.

I was Meant to Die with You

It would be an honor to die with you. I will live off of bread and sing nothings into the sweetness of your ear. We shall pass into after lives of our own creation and search no more for answers that never mattered. We shall hope we did this all right. We shall hope that we got a thumbs up and I will cry as you pass. I will cry so hard and I will want nothing more than to join you after that moment. I will cry when you pass. I will want nothing more than to follow you over. I will cry with you as you go as I know you will miss me so. Be my ghost if you must. I will hold your vaporous form in my arms day and night. I will wait till the last breath departs my flesh and we will never ever part. What a beautiful thing to die with you. That sadness will break me, halve me and I will never be able to love more perfectly than I did the moment you left.