

last goodbyeas i sit here on a hill the sun shines down on me the storm in my mindlast goodbye
wont ever let me be free wrong words were said bitter tears were shed i look at my wrists
and see the scars and cuts, the rifts that forced us apart i let the rain fall from my eyes the same rain i cried when we said our last goodbyes
--
The poetry that comes from the squaring off between,
And the circling is worth it.
Finding beauty in the dissonance.
Previous PageNext Page