September 2011
1 tag
3 tags
4 tags
13 tags
November: Sonnet 12
November sunsets under which we play,
We pass gold frosted fields and sparkling lakes.
Explore our hometown like bright eyed new babes
My eyes do feel more open as of late.
More open to the changes that we are,
Do you see how you’ve become something else?
Will you, butterfly, follow seasons far?
Tell me, where points the compass of yourself?
Are you a cocoon, I must free, to go?
I can see...
8 tags
1 tag
ghostsandonionskins:
Over loose soil you ran from death and the others in black stared scornfully as though you’d ruined their pageant while underneath and all around souls from breathless bodies worms from picked-bare bone and claw-marked coffin lining all too scream of escape
5 tags
9 tags
3 tags
9 tags
6 tags
6 tags
4 tags
4 tags
9 tags
Real
I’ve got a poem in my pocket
That says just how I feel.
For these past couple years,
I’ve been starting to get real.
Real with the dreams
Inside of my head.
Getting real with the words
My soul’s inclined to shed.
6 tags
5 tags
5 tags
7 tags
3 tags
There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice.
– F. Scott Fitzgerald (via howfreeitis)
6 tags