One is named after a song,
her sister, after a flower...
The Pieces that were left never felt right...
feeling down as I look up at the night...
I flew across midnight, as the blue moon cried,
no soul insight but my own, walking on stars...
I was born in poverty and abuse
i was dead in compassionate noose...
It's a dark night this evening
soothing smiles fill the air...
Less than twelve hours
until the week makes itself...
I wanted to dip my hand
in the river, and blister my finger...
You are approaching
in measures that cannot be mimicked...
When I feel isolated,
that Is when...
Slithered under a blanket of snow
scribbling profanity, as snow crystals...
I am
a broken dreamer...
I try not to live out myself in others:
it is already hard to be my own enemy...