The storm’s last words
are a rumbling retreat,
It’s flashing anger
burning where the earth and sky meet.
It’s only crime, paid in full
leaving behind, sodden soil.
The storm’s last words
are a rumbling retreat,
It’s flashing anger
burning where the earth and sky meet.
It’s only crime, paid in full
leaving behind, sodden soil.
I wouldn’t be interested in a woman without scars
scars are proof that life is worth living
and wounds will heal.
Scars are beauty meets toughness
and toughness is made of her soul,
scars can be read like a map
pointing to each characteristic of herself
leading the way to who she really is.
Read like a history book they can tell her story
without words they can speak
but I’m sure she’d rather tell me.
In my dreams
waits a tiger,
so I sleep scared
when I sleep at all.
I hear twigs break
and clandestine footfalls
where maybe
there was nothing at all.
Just a mental projection
over a physical reality,
what it is to be
no one could ever tell me.
I am living and breathing
blood and flesh,
but I am something more
as well,
terminal, and yet endless.
Forever bound to a dying tree,
I am a leaf
longing for eternity.
In my deep, deep heart
Somewhere down there isĀ a hole
It ne’er stays very full.
Try to seal the deal
this time, try to make it count.
Make a move. Try hard.
There’s nothing in my head
that wouldn’t fit on a platter,
There’s nothing I’ve said
that I couldn’t have said better,
There’s nothing in my chest
that holds any magic,
There’s nothing in my soul
if there was you could have it,
There’s nothing in my liver
where the ancients saw life,
There’s nothing in my ear
save the devil’s advice,
There’s nothing in my smile
but teeth and lips,
There’s nothing in my eyes
but a fleeting glimpse,
There’s nothing in my hands
but knuckles and scars,
There’s nothing in my dreams
but empty desires,
There’s nothing to me
but tissue and bone,
There’s nothing to be
save Being alone.