I’m on the flight back home.
Tag Archives: home
Hope abandons us in times of need.
the piano lingers in hallowed halls.
the seasons will come and go. the question is whether to accept it peacefully or not accept it at all.
laughing in your face
laughing in your face because this is madness at its purest form.
i am a home to share with your aching pain.
quiet beauty blooms closest to us.
more than 16 years, i spenttreading cracked sidewalks dreams extending to the skylinesinvisible to mortal eyes small city girllying on carpets of dried grass,sticks uncomfortably in my backand the absence of stars beige and gray and greenor, rather, the absence of greenpainted with artificial and the close-knitted community(wait – i didn’t even know my neighbors’Continue reading “my city”
dreams that don’t linger.
home in your arms
sunlight through paper thin curtainsbrushes the side of your pale facewith a golden tendril of loveas the machines beep incessantlyyour breathing the only soundin a silent world. but even the best have to fall,and the happiest have to cry,so your breaths peter out,one by one,till sunlight fades into the tendril of death,who brushes your hairContinue reading “home in your arms”