When dying breaths never end,
the bells strike noon once again.
Lost dreams cry, begging one's

Why do I remember your digits
even after all these years?
Why do I go against
the stereotypes

Let’s hear it for objects cast aside,
And ones that have lost their shine:
The silvered wood now

I got smiles stuffed into a paper bag for comfort, no therapy works for me.
I take one out and wear

I'm just a girl
I prance and I dance
I skip and I play
Even though I find myself
Caught in the

Dead roses on my piano

A whiff of terror in my demeanor

Chains in my paradise

An

I sat, he sat opposite
Stared, hard, took a cold chunk of flesh with his eyes, a burning sensation

I gruesomely tear the pages down into half,
The letters and emails I wrote,
Not sent, still

You can't cry, they'll call you weak,
You can't shout, they'll consider you want to compete.

You

I stare at the reflection,
It's eyes merely blank.

I gawk at it in silence,
My heart, by

Covert and broken
Soft lovers dance beneath the moon 
They plant the seed for a rose destined to

Young lovers fade in a questioning air,
Light passing through heavy words.
Held in a steady coil,

I thought it was us against the world, I thought it would be us until our dying days, Thought that

and when honey dew simply drips away
t h a t crack from FEAR