turning eyes away
what is there to say
language is a shield
silence is to yield
rotten discipline
deprivation, sleep
always staying thin
never carving deep
just a little bit longer
it seems its necessary
to cringe when reading, seeing
and afterwards remembering
remembering so well
wheres the knife to stab
straight into the memory
right I gave it away
and what a good thing too
or so it seems
In my heart I know I can let go
In the end I will find some peace inside
New wings are growing tonight
This post serves two functions.
#1 to remind the reader of the awesomeness of Madrugada
#2 to state that my creativity is dried up at the moment.
Well duh.
