Perfect bridges for a fading light taking you to dark caves like fireclay in fake sorrows. The superstition of a race pool and unearthing the sacred temple under a mount of lies. In vitro a baby god sleeps waiting for
BROKEN GLASS Standing here in front of me Are many pieces before me Looking down all I see Are different colored pieces Of what was me Broken, shattered and scattered Use to resemble me The glass I see before me
She’s loved by many but walks alone. It’s not because she has no one to comfort her, or that she isolates herself from those surrounding her, but it’s because she’s all the strength and comfort she needs. While others find
As I walked back to my house, i heard a stranger that passed me by mumbling numbly to himself about why a sidewalk will never unfold itself near the end of a routine and then become a fretwork of shadows.