Hands are funny things
They reminds us of our past
Each individual scar
But the veins which keep us breathing
Can also tell our future
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 6:27 AM UTC
her lucid mind clouded as
she felt nostalgic over the
memories. In her hand, a
cigarette blazed. Whilst she
spoke she exhaled the smoke
of which kept her sane.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 6:26 AM UTC
My demons whisper cold words to me
As they hold my hand in fear I'll forget them
Their lips permanently engraved
Dear as remembered kisses after death
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
the record spins.
a glass shatters,
nothing matters.
he stumbles to bed,
drunk.
to wake next morning
and flood his system
with painkillers.
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 4:21 PM UTC
The ground was cold for it had frozen,
under the chill in the air
and the wind blowing my hair.
The trees bore no leaves;
their twisting branches
waving to the icy river
which stood close by.
I lit a fire and watched
the flames nurture
winter's cold heart.
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC
I am tired of seeing your face
Splattered against the wall of my brain
My cigarette stained hands yearn for your touch
As I pray that I will not see another sunrise
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC