pelt and chime the beauty of synchronicity stand still for not a single second shimmer and wave destroy your home stand still for not a single second
dead air and red lips control my staggered speech another breath and my eyes no longer reach choking on the glass that you once saw me through shattered
inferior to the faces hanging over me you choose to join them i remain unaccepted so what's left for us. . . paper mache conversations so what is left
Winter hands, cold clasps, the memory filters into something lucid, a salty drop on my brow, a once brilliant residue now over rich, segments collide
eyes glazed over another daylight dream cutting kisses from invisible lips a ghost coexistent to the touch of fingertips i have lost the my faith in
no compassion as i pass my eyes over this wasteland in disbelief disappointment slaps me in the face i lose my ability to speak this thoughtless acceptance
they stand alone listlessly innocent with crimson soaked petals full blossomed and thorned i'm burning all my roses tonight with intent to purify flames
A distant cry... From what I perished for? No.... It was born... The winterburden. I bled its tears once... Oh, if only it could wither, wither in the
: Winter hands, cold clasps, the memory filters into something lucid, a salty drop on my brow, a once brilliant residue now over rich, segments collide