curbdrop out of grace

just once in awhile

tongue so bitter the taste bleeds numb like the sun setting on days past way before the silent shore swept in yesterday's disease fleeing the spring clean scene that social order borders the shoulder over the smoldering heat from frying fans flying forth in a breathless wind that winds down the spine of second hand speak easy rest gently drown quietly burn down sometimes but lifetimes drift wide and miss and this awefulness is bliss to broken beaten wings that swing back and forth like indecision instilled in the flood of love that throws outside ways days fade and fail like faith trailing tail between legs forget what summer shields your spirit spoken like a true broken man.

posted by fillshe @ 12:23 AM