i don't have one yet.i am building mountains made of sod solely so you can rain on my parade and melt them like butter. but these mountains have turned into molehills,i don't have one yet.
and are steadily getting smaller because i'm a better listener, thanks to you. you're the storm in April, stirring up dust,
and making mud of the past. i'm patiently hearing you out under the tin roof,
because your words mean more to me
than any flowers you could give me during the month of May. my legs are left shaking,
after you've blown your fervent winds, wreaking havoc on the poise i once claimed, and i'm left b
will you be my best friend?I'm losing words to say because you're not here holding my hand as this pen rolls over this blank page scrawling simple lines of "she loves me, she loves me not" because i can't tell anymore. I'm not sure that when you go to sleepI'm the las thing you think of, or that when we're in each others arms you're not thinking of her.will you be my best friend?
I'm losing words to say because you weren't there this morning to hit snooze so we could meld. I woke up on the first buzz and showered alone today. "are your hands dirty now?" are the only words I can say as you stumble in the back door trying to get to the bathroom.
I'm losing words to say be
leaving...with this paper and pen,leaving...
i left you behind with
a cataclysm. i spat words in your face and left you in the dust. and all i did was babble chatter and prate.
with this paper and pen, i left behind mass destruction. leaving you speechless. left to ponder what implications i walked away from.
with this paper and pen, i left behind broken hearts and strung out lovers, growing up and unraveling my truths and falsehoods.
with this paper and pen, i left behind unwanted terror, and treason. &
contaminationliquid. liquid heat pouring out of brokencontamination
windows and
ashen
doorways liquid movement
spun like Juliard dancers swaying, twirling, floating swimming upward defying all laws of gravity. heat pushing us back,
tearing down walls and painting everything black the stench of burnt rubber and melting paint smothers the air making the intake of oxygen harder and the sky is tainted, blackened. smoke swirling up like drowning hands screaming for air. and there is nothing we can do but watch. wait, while our history is turned
paint myself in blue and red and black and grey
Peaceful
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"a cup of coffee and my chaser is beer" - wulfbane
miyembro ng ph-photo
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Luv The Wulfe <3
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for a minute there, i lost myself...
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When I was born I was so surprised I didn't talk for a year and a half.
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*TasteOfLiquid The club for Macro Photography of Liquid
And welcome to dA!
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for a minute there, i lost myself...
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