Reflecting windows.
Look past the mirror image...
Crouching in corners
with salt upon wounds...
I feel emptiness inside.
It consumes me...
A walk besides the lake beneath the stars
while holding hands and looking at your eyes...
This is not something i want to do
i'd like to shed the dirt and start anew...
Red is my color
my fragrance is sweet...
My sorrowful pockets
are lined with skeletal...
Seeing the world through the eyes of a child
their innocent minds have showered me...
I think my thoughts are not connecting,
but I thought that I if I thought...
I wrote this for a young lady I work with. She has...
I'm not so sure...
People have picked me up
from a dusty shelf...
Tears were blooming like roses,
Born from the roots of pain...