SeasonsSeasons pass because there's nothing to stay for It's winter when summer, and somehow beautiful Blow the warmth away, rain and snow will do Reasons aren't here to stay for good, and it's raining in my headSeasons
Throw everything you know away - you thought it was mine Will we say hello again at the end of time? Take all the scars away, I don't need this pain Obsession may not last forever, but it's raining again
Seasons change and moods go faster I might just learn to deal with this Will your broken arms safe me for one last time? I can wave, but will you no
Grey, Black and YellowMaybe there's a light at the end of nowhere Is it alright if I'll have another look? White walls before me and behind me Raining black teardrops from the sky What if I realised this isn't working? This everlastig emptiness won't go away Like searching for lost raindrops in a cloud Nothing is all I ever get to findGrey, Black and Yellow
Drowning in this see-through water Further into the unknown of our souls Safe me from this apathetic lifestyle Uninspired and forgotten I go on Seeing makes me wish for real feelings Absorbing the lines written in your soul Grey, black and yel
Suffocating RealityThe silence grows and makes us stronger Without a word we all belong Doesn't it matter that we're all strange? All strange so we're all the same It doesn't matter, because I am not All I can do is paint it perfect Coloured with pencils - I didn't know You'd paint it all away for meSuffocating Reality
The silence stays and makes us older Without this time we don't excist Doesn't it matter that we're all crazy? All crazy so we're all insane Take me away from this so called home I don't belong anywhere anymore Lost in thousand empty spaces You'd paint it all away from
a coiled ropeThe First TimeThis is not the first time I have fallen. My cheeks are not virgins to the careful caresses of my tears; there are pocketsThe First Time
of skin that sink with the gentle weight of a fingertip simply because they have been weathered by the salty tides of pain for too long.
This is not the first time I have tasted midnight. Sometimes, I think the moon cries herself to sleep. Every night, she sees the same thing- countless hands stretching their bones
out to touch her their arms rooted to the ground; after a while, the absence must grow heavy like an exhausted limb.
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merry christmas!!
thank you for commenting/being there
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