Tender mess of heart
while I cut the back
of my soul
Points of nostalgia,
memories running tasteless
through my fingers
Roaming, above ground
I watch the leaves fly,
an empty paper bag
I take a seat on a bench
while in state of mind
I mend my thougthless fixation













Comments
--
Live as if your were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever. -- Gandhi
--
Noen kaller meg sjenert. Jeg kaller det mystikk
~luciole
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