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laura-lee-burkhardtPoems
I don't remember much: There was a great crash and a sense of falling. There was a sinking feeling and an instinct to leave at once. Then there came a thought, that I had been here before. How many times, Walking on broken glass It seems no matter how soft my steps or care to position I still come up with ****** feet. I don't want to be that girl: who sits and assures It's all right! I don't feel a thing! The truth is, I feel everything (only)in dark hues of blue and green. I'm not quite sure: whose fault it is. You've given me thoughts like cuts to the bottom of my feet You've given me broken glass for my thoughts You've given me a love for the color of a rose best when seen out of my veins. You've given me everything I've wanted And you want it back. Tell me whose fault is that?
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Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 7:41 PM UTC
A Story Told Halfway True.
I don't remember much: There was a great crash and a sense of falling. There was a sinking feeling and an instinct to leave at once. Then there came a thought, that I had been here before. How many times, Walking on broken glass It seems no matter how soft my steps or care to position I still come up with ****** feet. I don't want to be that girl: who sits and assures It's all right! I don't feel a thing! The truth is, I feel everything (only)in dark hues of blue and green. I'm not quite sure: whose fault it is. You've given me thoughts like cuts to the bottom of my feet You've given me broken glass for my thoughts You've given me a love for the color of a rose best when seen out of my veins. You've given me everything I've wanted And you want it back. Tell me whose fault is that?
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laura-lee-burkhardt
Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 7:41 PM UTC
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