Roses are red; roses rose from the dead.
Taking all my energy to fight this feeling and get up out of bed. What do I do when I have all these unanswered questions, questioning words not said.
Blessed to the point of kneeling, over thoughts that bled. Crushed up girls, bewilderment, outrageous point unfurled.
Poetic essence between straight lines in a world that twirls. It’s a cold world, but the dust with enough pressure and friction can turn to a pearl. A heart that still beating, the need to breathe, the dream I keep on chasing. Now I’m pacing, completely spacing out.
Bittersweet memories are all I’m tasting now..