to Kaveh and the stars of his eyes.
It was a Sunday sunny afternoon...
I use to be a writer
a painter, a muse...
Water dribbles past the icy sheath
and pummels sandstone with its shine...
Repetitive emotions
scatter like squirrels...
How does love only
Take seconds to fall for you...
I hate you and all that you stand for,
You don't give a thing without keeping score...
Waked up early by a frantic
Tim, my road buddy...
Bleeding hearts and hollow eyes
Splintered souls and stifled cries...
Every brick was black
The paintings pale...
Yielding to everything you see, I begin
Oozing hatred and condemnation...
At times I would overdose, with the
bane of my life I would...
Melancholy prevails yet again
Watch me crumble and count to ten...