And my words were like water which spilled through each crevice,
The starving thirst of need for an understanding as your own,
Felt through the gullet of self-hatred and intense guilt,
For the waters of love came but only in drops like rain on a cloudy afternoon,
Mis-used and misinterpreted as a hurricane which swept its path and stripped everything naked,
As the passionate, ***** creation replaced that of a scarred and battered young hopeful,
Continuously dreaming of a calm moon and soothing stars in wake.
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 11:40 PM UTC
And my words were like water which spilled through each crevice,
The starving thirst of need for an understanding as your own,
Felt through the gullet of self-hatred and intense guilt,
For the waters of love came but only in drops like rain on a cloudy afternoon,
Mis-used and misinterpreted as a hurricane which swept its path and stripped everything naked,
As the passionate, ***** creation replaced that of a scarred and battered young hopeful,
Continuously dreaming of a calm moon and soothing stars in wake.
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