I don't travel for a living, I travel to feel alive.
And I've learned that nothing will better illuminate the path ahead of you than a burned bridge behind you.

I beg you please don't leave me
I beseech you please don't go
I simply can't wipe our slate clean
Make our memories cease to show
why won't you let me touch you
as you head out the door?
just a hug, a ****** stroke
just that and nothing more
Is the blame on me?
What is it I've done wrong?
Pray, tell me what I've done
so the guilt eats me not whole
You say there's someone else
Why cheat while our love seemed strong?
and then you dropped the bomb on me;
I've ben the other woman all along

Remind me (again) of youth
Share (again) with me freedom
Come, let's play
Or just take me, take me (back)
To where we don't need to talk
About the big, big things
And the future.

The path for vengeance is narrow
At least I have a bow and arrow
To protect myself against the High Sparrow

you were stripped away from me when i was only nine.
taken away by someone that was supposed to love me.
i didn't tell.
i didn't dare speak of it.
not because you weren't important,
but because i couldn't bare to have any of the words
roll off of my tongue.
simply because of the fact that the only ones
that were scratching at the back of my throat was
'somehow, someway,
this is  your  *fault.'

Perfect is boring.

a water droplet
plummeting
towards a marble bath tub
screams eerie echoes
into emptiness

an hourglass
vomits a thick,
square stream of
a million grains of sand
right back into it's own belly

a dryer machine
bullies and beats
white cotton through
turbulent cycles
of hot air

a spiritless woman
vigilant of repetition
and forgotten items
to occupy
her idle mind