Nightingales nuance
morning melodies for those...
Pocketed acorns rattle
within clothing hung...
--
i keep sweating, the air is drenched with...
An expression I have attempted to reveal
within the fires of my souls depths...
There are times when I get lost in memories,
listening to old ones croon tunes that...
The moon
unwinded...
The paper burns with a certain melody;
she makes suicide an art...
Girl, you are a phoenix
They tried to kill you with flame and smoke...
This time,
I wish not to...
I get home, and all that croaks
is my couch when I vouch for its pain...
My pen
screams nightmares...
Maybe the stars were out of my reach,
exactly how you used to preach...