Tornado on the OceanI've idled at the crossroadsTornado on the Ocean
Where one appeared as the other
And questioned my own sanity
When I dared to choose its brother
The crunching of the underfoot
The chill within the breeze
If only the life within these roads
Were whispered through the trees
I've breathed a day amongst ill times
A monument to my selections
To make my way to clearer skies
I'm forced into correction
The languish of uncertainty
My plight to gain salvation
But fighting my prosperity &
Strange on a SaturdayMy reaction to the threat of being muted once again A fate worse than death Or a thousand splinters in the heart I'm a prisoner She's a powerful unpleasantry And she solicits my mood each morning "Temporary" is what they say But how does one fight with their own head? I tell her that she's not welcome So she hisses like a starving vampire Scratching at the boundary The chemical boundary I ingest it everyday to keep her at bay The "Drink Me" bottle that sends Alice down a different rabbit hole One of lovely tea parties and smiles The question lingers stilStrange on a Saturday
Wings Made of WaxCould it be animosity that opened the gate? The doors swung open through a cloud of tears Trails of existence packed into the back of a four door Overcast skies and a freshly destroyed face The anger trickled down black I've always been fond of that color Or the absence of color Memory of an eternity reflected in the rear-view While childish things are stowed away Spreading my waxen wings to fly forth An embellished sun in my view No knowledge of what could destroy me But inventive means have been the key to my survival As odd as the circumstance could beWings Made of Wax
I'm
A Story About A GirlThere's something about the way you move, Fluid yet fixed upon your destination. Hands smudged with graphite and gleeful grace. I loved you that moment, no hesitation.A Story About A Girl
There's something about the way you cry, Exploding emotion with fragments that burn. Hands tiny and tensed, waiting to taste, The pain you love, and the pain I learn.
There's something about the way you heal, Sketching and scarring on paper and skin. Hands held out to hug and show me your hurt, I love your arms' art, and the ones kept within.
There's something about the way you smile, &
Caught in the Rain
Caring
Previous Page12345...Next Page