Sometimes it's in the writing, not the words, but in the act of freely placing thoughts on paper.

Friday, August 31, 2012

All the wrong things

 
 
 
 
Moving like water
but breaking like glass
tangled in thoughts dipped in untold truths
and memories strong enough
I still taste them on my lips.
All the wrong things soaked in gasoline
catch fire
as I lay here in this bed
of guiltless twisted lies
but like this flame
i'm to blame
for letting them pass by.

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