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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Personal · #1138550
...and the heart still scribes.
all the depths come risin'
decays freshen up
n' i need to choose everythin'.
i try to inflate my hopes
to help my sorrows keep me happy
n' i can't chase the things no more i feel happy in.
yes mr. plant you can go for the heavens if you want to
but i'm sick n' tired of justifyin' my life
when i've already chosen to
run away from the people i love.
n' now i choose silence as my language
with all the age old stories i'll want to tell forever
n' i still choose to wait
when i've made sure
i've got absolutely nothin' at all to wait for.
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