Transcript:

The tender rose pedal runs.

Its awkward angles carried by the wind.

It doesn’t look back.

The thorns it broke from watch it fly.

 

The thorns feel too.

Transcript:

A Stare

A sunlit afternoon under everlasting rain

A resting stroke of chalk ever washed away by pain

A cup that runneth over, only waiting for it’s drain

All inside yours eyes at once is all that makes me sane

 

A reason to be happy

 

A reason just to be happy