There was a flower on my desk
A crumpled, withered thing
Memories of being green
Now crisp, dried, yellowed
Shuffled through time's deck
Yet lying undisturbed
At peace.
A gift that never meant
More. Than it ever did.
At last it resembled more
The promise of the grave,
Than any promise that was made
There was a flower on my desk
But there is one no longer.
Saturday, February 11, 2012
I'm bad at vulnerability I like to tie off places Where mess might hide Might wander in to introduce themself Until I'm all kn...
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She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
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To slumber And not be tossed about Like an incomplete formula In the mind of a mathematician Is a good thing The solution Lies in reme...
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Late It's practically done, more or less Plus or minus it's my best Effort if you squint and side-eye It. I'm sure it will get b...
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