The truth is a seed layered beneath a bed of dead leaves, 

the lies from which it sprouts, and grows

Catching the first light


Dead well

Vague smiles

Lies written on glossy lips,

The old wine tastes the same,

like water from a dead well


and salty

If all to a man is his cravings,

an empty glass and broken pipe,

then castles befall queens,

whose laces fall loose on their flat chests

But not wits

Beds pleasure hearts,

and poems baffle the mind 

She is more than a sexy lingerie 

He craves belonging,

to another soul

Everything and anything 

Life isn’t about anything 

And yet, 

It is about everything after all 

The love I’ve  found, 

the lies,

these Blood diamonds

It isnt about you

It is about you

A cup out of the sea

Thirsty or not

One billion stars have fallen, 

and You are,

another shooting star 

With nothing that is everything,

and everything that Is anything 


It only hurts as much as we love

We fall so deep

So hard

On a bed roses

Bleeding our skins, 

On prickles,

and razors, 

Of withering petals 

The falling skin with the passing ages

Wearies of a young man,

Troubled with the dawn of a mysterious tomorrow 

The society,

and it’s demands

The whispering streets 

These blurry faces jeering around the corners

“she is a bastard after all”

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