darling, paint me the colors of the sky
never in my life have i felt so vivid and free
we watch our smoldering heat intensify
two heart beats in a cacophony
new wounds heal over and old scars fade
spinning in circles in wet november grass
we'll set fire to the masquerade
and dare the liars to call us crass
YOU ARE READING
Serenity - A Journal Of Some Sort
RandomThey tell me that what I create is chaos. But what I create is the only thing that brings me serenity. ~ warning: this book abruptly switches from deep personal narratives to really random stuff so hop on and enjoy the ride
