January 2011
6 posts
I
could let my heart spill for hours…
but that’s not productive.
metaphors and little whores.
hollow is the heart ive molded. christened the clay and burned it into permanence. no questioning its actions, only the steady and not so steady beats throughout my lifetime.
i used to be able to tell the difference between whats right and whats not. ive been thrown into a place where there is no right, there is no wrong;
only temptation. give in to the temptation, or shuffle on. these are my...