these are my words
i dug up in a field of dead
the memories where you
fly and i don’t
it’s my least favorite
memory and life goes
while i twist at night
a kiss in millions of
small deceits and night
is it right where i feel so
most at home when begged
a sharp blade to meet me
the train of hope says
‘all aboard broken-hearts’
lovers’ (is it me?” I’m so shattered
feeling i’m drowing in deceit
so know this is my season of
less-living wrestling falling leaves
and Mother Nature
come save me

:: 08-17-2015 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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