When the tears won't come, I cry words
When words won't come, I hemorrhage sentences
I escape through this ink flowing on paper
Confide my darkest thoughts in the open
Tell my fears and secrets to the canvas of my mind
Seek counsel in these lines, recompense with the hush of the voices in my head
These pages, this ink ingrained in my soul
A reprieve from the journey of my life
When the tears won't come, and the words aren't enough
I'm thankful, to god, that I, can write
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Women have truly been the bane of my existence; I have a perpetual love hate relationship with them – the love part being highly fueled by ...
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Every weekend over the last few months has been somewhere between good - great; with some "fucking mad" sprinkled here and there. ... -
She pins my hands against the wall, I'm disarmed and weakened by desire. The nakedness of this well sculpted caramel goddess now on mine...
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