If...
Cupids...
A subtle scent of lemony zest,
evokes a spicy titillation...
Our wonderful world languishes
within an open wound...
I whispered to the wind Of my
hollowed misery...
born from serenity
a melody...
Beyond the rusty thorns of barbed wire
the ink from my pen flows with tears and sadness...
Day
and night...
eyes
crazed...
petals inscribed with love, fall
like teary snowflakes...
I wake up to the cracked
whites of the ceiling...
If I could change something about myself, |
I often wonder if I could empty the contents of my mind through a colander, what would I be left with? |
While enjoying the comforts of Addiction, the aftermath is only a fantasy. |