If I could learn how to be wise
as I sink my feet in my dewy garden...
These scars
This past...
I consider myself to be the truth,
a vessel of some kind...
Biting my tongue,
I ponder what to say...
Sky of Blue Memories
laying on a bed of lush moss green...
I wanted to speak of my panic
Maybe to it...
My brother is a hidden poet and I am jealous of...
Longing...
The night came with so many terrifying epiphanies
that by morning i was left brain dead...
My mind is a fortress
of un lived realities...
Slandered on the juvenile philosophy of candle lit...
We stagger our moments...
I can see you stood there alone,
nowadays you look like you perfer to be alone...
When you're too upset to cry
And Too sick to die...