3 months ago. Monday, November 3, 2025 at 9:32 PM
Oh the broken not on lies,
The stoking of a fire so high,
She is taking, taking her time,
God I wish she would give it back,
Always caught on how I lack,
To be broken, or alive,
Again the simple goodbye,
So many questions and no reply,
Fire flying butterfly,
God she is sweetly ticking the clock,
Feeling as though we missed the dock,
Patiently waiting to be seen and heard,
Wishing some notice however absurd,
I wish to be good in this land,
Hoping for some sort of plan,
Oh the measure of hearts strings,
No no please not the breaking it brings,
To love even when hurt and sad,
To hold nothing at night is bad,
Oh the rain and the shower,
This love is the breaking hour,
As is the witches whimsy,
It finds me simply,
When none is around....