Tuesday, March 04, 2008

where are you

the dew on her eyes rolled off into the ocean
the heat of his heart turned to ash

we drown in our own bubbles of air
til it sears our souls beyond repair

LOst foreVEr

1 comment:

Nobody Messes With Adam We said...

So Shakespeare, are we writing poetry now?
I wish you were here so I could throw something at you.
Miss ya big bro!