Crumbling
Into
Your
Arms
2.24.2011
2.20.2011
2.18.2011
2.11.2011
21211 0127
Every creak is you.
Every moan and groan from the wood,
Every crack is your step.
The squeal of the gate,
Or the tappity tappity tappity.
Shuffling.
It is you.
Every moan and groan from the wood,
Every crack is your step.
The squeal of the gate,
Or the tappity tappity tappity.
Shuffling.
It is you.
21211 0125
I suppose I should
Listen to my own advice sometimes.
But there are things
That haunt me in the early morning
Both new and old, alike
Haunting me, taunting me,
Making me doubt what I thought was doubtless.
Listen to my own advice sometimes.
But there are things
That haunt me in the early morning
Both new and old, alike
Haunting me, taunting me,
Making me doubt what I thought was doubtless.
2.09.2011
2911 0313
I always miss,
The things I should not miss.
I always miss,
The times when I was no happy.
I always miss.
The things I should not miss.
I always miss,
The times when I was no happy.
I always miss.
2.07.2011
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