Stole the feathers of hope from the wings of change today. I tried to tie them to a stick in an attempt to sweep it all under the rug. I guess the truth is that this thread only feels worn and frayed these days.
The air in my lungs feels stale again. I wish that I could take it back. The ceiling reminds me of the floor and I'm only sure that I've once again lost my sense of wrong and right.
Traced the cord from the hole in the wall to find out that this has all just been a lesson in charades. In fact, all that is really left of us is the words on pages left unturned.
This whole town is a blur. Running around in circles with the after-taste of girls who need the attention almost as much as me right now.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
We will forever be a community of writers asking you to fall in (love) or be taken (hostage.) We only want to make you smile, and encourage you to pick up the pen, or start using those fingers on your keyboard!
