entry picture

doesn't really matter anymore

which one I follow

soul blinded my heart

cracks like a cello

my art melts

absently full 

tipping flipping

upside down

and back in on itself

all the walls melt away

dreams obliterate my fate

with destiny I dance

take my chance

in the black of night

nobody ever

really holds your hand right.

I write every night

like it's the last of my life

'cause I've always died inside

well before the morning light.



Broken Heartswriting

◄ Poem in Progress B (explicit)

Ice ►


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