Broken hearts do make
Bad containers of love...
Everything I touch begins to wither.
Slowly at first, so as not to notice...
floating through an orchestral valley-
the sun glances over the shoulders...
I felt like a blue crayon box.
On the outside blue and sad...
Stuck in the eye of the storm.
These walls built from wind keeping me trapped in...
dim room, peeling wall,
only my bed and my thoughts...
Darkness and me, we are a team
then there is this hippie waiting to be born...
demons encroach upon my mind
a stomping ground for reapers of darkness...
Breathing doesn’t come easy anymore
I choke on this air, we just don’t mix...
i write this,
not because you need to read it...
Commotion
Heats up...
I find myself in this habitation,
Unsure how I ended up in this tomb...