Atalantiel

we'll make our sleep in glass tonight there was snow on the windowsill this morning there was muffled quiet but morning construction broke it in pauses and sound he was quiet, but because he was crying and our bodies lay not together instead in a constant shuffle of rearrangement and discomfort glass emotions had made a beautiful bed we’d love to lay skin to skin under the naked moon but with college town lights and secrets our experiences are harshly guarded he was quiet, because he worried but I was quiet because I was crying there was glass in the grass sparkling on this clouded night today when I told him it was time t

"Butterfly, The Psyche of War" In silence, there is sorrow caution breathed in every step a glass pane breaking between reality and fiction among mortars, the poor man's gravestone and a sense of frost etching the scene In silence, there is doubt dissension that hang whispers in the air stroke tears down faraway faces faraway hopes that seem too far to touch across these salty seas lie our hearts In silence, there is peace the gentle battlefield calmed by time black and white photographs detail the past a frozen act trapped in essence of forgive the trace of ghosts that will never leave In everything we create fear nestles in

Stay away from a poet She's dangerous, double crossed Looks behind her in the mirror and sees only You Her reflection Reflecting on things that went wrong in every thing you did And everything you were, She'll write down your history Mornings surrounded by music and kisses- Kisses and the strains of blue shades Afternoons walking down faceless halls Faceless classes and faceless students And evenings… Evenings were heaven Stay away from a poet She'll take every movement you make Strip it bare and lay clean the reality Breathe life into decisions that you never thought twice Much less once, about Extrapolate the reasons that