You're just another player in the game of operation.
With your Ivory fingers on the tweezers, Your red lips are a thin line touring the connector box. The power source is a perfect formulation of numbers. Numbers so tightly wound, Their sparks of electricity bring vulnerability. I don't slight you from holding that back. Our relationship would be a disaster so, It only reinforces your surface interaction.
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You're a writer
You're a fighter You're a lighter To get you more than higher. You're among dragonflies Definite rise Limit of skies Gold beyond what it buys. Intricate desire The lick of fire Altitude to aspire Secretly, self-admire. You're solid as a rock Onto the next block Spirit soon to flock You've got survival on lock. Nothing like fresh pain to bring to life, words of a song you never paid mind to. This song has been out for about a year and was showed to me by my best friend. I didn't conceal my disinterest in it, yet she said it helped her. Another quote out of context that illustrates my suspicion about the motive for ripping this relationship up from the roots sounds something like this: Where'd you learn how to act like that? But don't worry, I don't wish I were bread.Today's suitable recipe is pain d’épices |
AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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