Her crinkly hair, my sleepy eyes
Her high-pitched voice, my subtle sense of humour
My old pal and I,
We concealed the depth of our ardent feelings,
But embraced the cruelty of our empty hearts.
Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 9:07 AM UTC
Quietly and alone,
a flower blushes
in the cactus garden.
Viciously and slow,
the flower is pricked
by the venomous spines.
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
I sat swiftly
on the edge of my bed.
Linking my two soft hands
is a sheet of paper
ready to be
the ballroom of misery.
I held my pen,
and guided it's movement.
I let it dance on the paper
and transcribe my thoughts,
leaving nothing
but ink of grief.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 5:49 AM UTC