Poetry

Dripping red onto pristine snow of hope Droplets pulled away from the very heart of me With a smile Always […]

I gave myself to you without a gift receipt With a confidence I had forgotten I could display, shaking with

There used to be a gap between moments imagined and moments lived; sometimes it still grins with all the might

Some wounds gape open too much to be stitched together by a sip of wine and a good old cry

I stand in the wind and lift my damp face towards the skies, giving my tears to the night in

I carry the weight of a hundred dead dreams Dragging their carcass behind me through a diamond hard desert Winds

I don’t need to be anywhere else but here I want you I need to hear you laugh Give me

I am so aware of the boundaries of my love.I scratch at the hard paint. I use my nails up