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08-07-06, 11:54 PM | #1 | ||
Light Weight
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Always Tommorrow
IP:
The passing moments of
a tasteless day cross lost patterns of your relentless youth away. Tragic stories with listless endings and whispers of whisky sours hold your head in check while your mind counts on the passing hours. The abyss recieves bold stares and accumulates kisses from perched lips ready to recieve the bleeding stints from the minute despair was opened on the kitchen table's edge. The birds of a prison cage swallows, two thirds of newly hollowed bottles sit upon the windowsill and catch the light from the glory days ahead. -New writing style, testing it out.. Special thanks to Myself. For lending a helping hand with this type of writing.. Links coming tommorrow.
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Was he robbed of the ashphalt that cushioned his face? Last edited by I Am Unreal. : 08-07-06 at 11:58 PM. |
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