He put his heart on the poker table ‘he’s all in’ his face grim and unquavering, he thinks he’s able but the cards are stacked against him he plays all moves but the joker beleaguers his fingers they use his mind as a bullet practice board wearing their bullet proof vest so they’re well protected He’d been on a scorching quest for disaster was given a tepid glass of love in return
They said his heart was a Rubik’s cube in a Swiss bank so he pulled the funds out took the risk rather than being a ******* He spends his heart on love, he realises its like a cigarette loaded with regret rather than nicotine so he took a cue, formed his heart back to a Rubik’s cube and put in a Swiss bank in the maze house
it's blue where the robins lay their eggs so the eggs themselves are blue; the nest, not being blue, can only long to become a comrade of the grass again. the grass is something only wishing to be cut, the lawnmower only wishes to be fueled (by what?) and worms find themselves through the pores of the skin of the flaky earth below. rigidity is a form of division that splits apart no self but others only.
Rubic cube taught me, With full of unsorted colors No matter we can sort or not But it is still an unsorted beauty Leaves it's impression to be how it is Or how more it gets unsorted with more variations of colors Doesn't matter what happens next That's how life goes on!
Was playing with a rubic cube lately and the unsorted whole of it made me to think so deep. It's a way to satisfy oneself that not everything will get sorted out smoothly! The pain of being unsorted should be enjoyed more often!
I have never had the patience to solve a Rubix Cube So instead I cheat I peal each different colored sticker off and place them in a way that makes it appear solved complete I guess I do the same with myself I peal off each of my colors aspects of my personality and rearrange them so I appear solved complete But under the seemingly ordered colors I am scrambled
Hanging in space, suspended in nothingness, tiny little cubes with rounded edges glistening brightly like bulbs; they're moments.
Some moments are nice and some worth writing about. The best moments **** time; Earth spins slowly, your bones tilt your guts twist and then it's over like blown-out candles just like that.
The tiny little cubes are snapshots, they capture the moments and they won't shake them after they come out. The cubes are collages of your entire life of the feelings you've felt the experiences you've had and your love wrote a cute note at the bottom of the picture.
The tiny little cubes go unnoticed by most people but you. However, the moments still exist as long as there are someone to remember them.