if a poet retires in the woods and no one is around to hear it is it still inconsequential or does the universe sigh in relief at the sudden serendipitous silence?
hope is a trapeze but someone sawed through the bar love is a tightrope that has been electrified neither come with instructions and the audience wants you to fail because they know a secret the net is made from razor wire suspended over a tank of piranhas
it is a fine line we tread between triumph and failure or so i keep hearing them say as the corks pop on the other side of the fence i just cover myself in leaves hope it doesn’t rain
her heart was sweet like freshly picked flowers but her eyes were open like a freshly dug grave it was hard to reconcile the two but that didn’t stop me from trying so i wasn’t particularly astonished when it didn’t quite work
cerulean skies and warm beams of golden light to bask in, the rustle of leaves on threadbare trees, the squirrels search for hidden spoils unspoiled by the touch of man seeking solace from this wracking cough, this somber sickness that infuses and drains, the scratching of pencil on the pad and furious erasing of another […]
a friend shared an article about how people only fall in love three times in their lives the first is innocent the second is to learn tough lessons about ourselves the third is a surprise and when it all finally clicks i remember the innocent one she sometimes haunts my dreams still and the jagged […]