tears: clear blood of the soul; some times a letting is required as balm for the deepest hurts - the wound within the wound the only power that heals.
Category: Poetry
New Apartment
here where it is empty I am alone, my white-painted world. I crave the solitude, seeking to find the stillness where my path becomes clear; where I know all I have is what I need, the rest rich luxury even you - who quickened the pace of my beaten heart so much more than I deserved, the greatest gift in this blink of existence - will be taken away (before I'm ready) by Fate someday.
Escape
In a constant rush of harsh light and explosive sound the world exists around me, demanding more than I have to give; I seek escape in the sanctuary of solitude, though more often I am choked by the loneliness - driving me back into the chaos desperate for something to hold on to, to let me know what I am is enough.