I am constructing my reality with unreal, otherworldly materials. It is almost poetic, this outstanding self manipulation. -Sylvia Plath
Tuesday, 22 September 2015
Thursday, 17 September 2015
Sunday, 13 September 2015
Bare Minimum
Help me craft paper boats
Of love
And set them to sail
Through muddy puddles of rain
Which hold the sky
in their wake-
Perhaps, one day,
Before drowning,
They will reach
Where I couldn't?
Of love
And set them to sail
Through muddy puddles of rain
Which hold the sky
in their wake-
Perhaps, one day,
Before drowning,
They will reach
Where I couldn't?
Help me fold love along
The highway roads of our initials and see
If the bends meet up somewhere
To link your destiny to me.
Perhaps, one day,
While cruising,
I would be set free?
The highway roads of our initials and see
If the bends meet up somewhere
To link your destiny to me.
Perhaps, one day,
While cruising,
I would be set free?
Help me dream verses of love
In the color that I bleed
And let them seep through my being
Coloring all my need.
Perhaps, one day,
As I bleed,
All pain would cease?
In the color that I bleed
And let them seep through my being
Coloring all my need.
Perhaps, one day,
As I bleed,
All pain would cease?
Help me set love on fire
And leave it to crackle
Through fireplaces that gather dust
Inside my heart-
Perhaps, one day,
While raging,
It will burn me to ashes?
And leave it to crackle
Through fireplaces that gather dust
Inside my heart-
Perhaps, one day,
While raging,
It will burn me to ashes?
Help me hold love tight
In the death grip of my fist.
In the death grip of my fist.
Help me restrict my love for you
To the bare minimum.
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