Posts: 14
From: in a copper apple on a tree in neverland...
Registered: Jan 2011

posted January 29, 2011 09:13 PM            

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Saturated wind gusts carry the sun, drenching the face.
Inspiration breaths in, but alas, fast paced.
Cotton candy hair; looking through it like lace.
Feeling confined, the dense strands steal the space.
Maced by the external, the fraternal is misplaced.

Sadly, the beams reflect back, at best;
I’m opaque and re-baked, from soulful unrest.
My beating heart’s bleeding while it swells in my chest.
It deflates on the outtake of confessions confessed,
Because they were proof that I didn‘t pass the test.

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