caught in our thoughts we become
a beacon of truth
where words collide
and bleeding hearts reside
to ignite the pen
to spill of prose
tis where my story flows
as thorns upon a midnight rose
-just breathe-
caught in our thoughts we become
a beacon of truth
where words collide
and bleeding hearts reside
to ignite the pen
to spill of prose
tis where my story flows
as thorns upon a midnight rose
-just breathe-
prick
the stem
the blood
seeps
we weep
and find
smaller joys