The Fragile Scorpion...

Friday, July 04, 2008




this town just wasn't made for two, it wasn't made for me and you; but when the streets call my name, what can i do?





through these playful lips made of yarn, like me, that fragile scorpion; unraveled words like moths on old scarves, i know my world's a broken bone, but i melt my headaches and call it home.


i want to go where everyone goes, i want to know what everyone knows, i want to go where everyone feels the same...

3 comments:

Anonymous,  10:01 PM  

you have the sould of a poet...

Anonymous,  10:24 AM  

you have the soul of a poet...

The waiter 11:07 PM  

I remember a town that was made for us and the streets that we owned. The days were ours to hold on to and when we left a part of us always stayed behind.
Do you know where i am speaking of?

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