's the essence of a cigaretteyour face like heroin in the age of rebellion's the essence of a cigarette
your lips like staircases words always seem to climb
[[though your heart is a void which none can find]]
your limbs so slim, lanky and fine
a bell in the tower arrives at your chime.
the leak has begun to spring
our children have toppled over the brink.
there is no more we've had enough of your lore how many times must i tell you to go back?
my sister is still sick. :( 
Optimism
sorry about your sister
--
Art is:
not a privilege,
food for your soul,
an esential part of you,
joy and therapy for all the people
--
Art is:
not a privilege,
food for your soul,
an esential part of you,
joy and therapy for all the people
--
Previous Page12345...Next Page