Words flow like blood from a wounded heart on a cold, cloudless day.
Words pour like wine from a paper cup in a vague, meaningless way.
Words fall like rain on the desert sand and then quickly wash away.
Words fill the air like the morning fog, but what does anyone say?
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Hi! I make beer, cook food, play bass, and occasionally write words
#sundayrepost Morning!. Mourned your dreams, Dreaming in sins. Sincerely win, Winters icy dawn. Adorn your outfit, Outfox Queen or King. Kingdoms slaves, Slaved in minds. Minding you lose.
If a heart was black, And a punch was pink, What would you think. If love was grey, And hate was yellow, Would we still act mellow.
My name is purple. But I am not. I like to paint the town red. And let my mother see red. I like to attend a black-tie event. And see my friends get green with envy.
There are those that do believe. That the stars represent our souls. Our lost ones looking over us. Watching how our lives unfold. But I believe the stars. Represent wishes held in our hearts.
Days, even years from now Our thoughts, they will be read Days, even years from now Our bodies will be dead And when I fall I will run Run by your side To the sun Now I'm wondering Where we're...
Some use words as though they're knives, They'll slice the air and ruin lives, Cut the mood then fear arrives, Move through your veins in swooping dives.
Crashing tides against still rocks. Washing machines full of odd white socks. Broken dreams of a once hope filled child. Spoken screams of one usually so mild.
Is this fate, Or is this love. Is this real, Or a gift from above. Is this destiny, Or is this perfection. Is this true, Or just small affection. Is this life, Or is this your heart.
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