And we were always running never to but always from and always running... And we were always hurting never for but always from
Whiteboards are erasable. Write down a message Swipe it away with a sleeve Scribble down another message. Swipe it away again.
The clouds in the distance Sit, patient Oblivious to my need For rain They promise the rain
All I have to say Is I am incomplete A story left unwritten A page left unturned But that does not matter
dance in the sun watch it splatter over your face
flirting with death ring the bell and run she knows it was you but she lets you go you are waiting to die.
Something warm has curled up inside my chest. It is filled with hate, with sadness, with things I cannot express.
Wet paper arrows quivering against the bright string of the bow. The arrows
morning rays peeking through the c… dancing close to you quiet stories told in the dark sleeping in movie nights
I want to hold your hand Tight in my own As we run far away To a brand new home. I want to cup your face
As you walk away, Without looking back, I stand here, heart in my hands. I wish you had stayed Or that I’d done something differ…
The wind– A finicky rush That has to be somewhere else All the time. The faint echoes of summer
We used to have the same lunch, didn’t we? We used to laugh at the same jokes… wouldn’t we? We were woven from the same fabric
Notes rolling off of my fingers The right hand sings a soft melody… The richer undertones of the left… Flowing and melting in swirling ma… The quiet inner voice on the right…
Words are just words They say But if they’re “just words,” Why do they hurt so much more When they tell the truth?