I hold it true, whate’er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; ‘Tis better to have loved and lost. Than never to have loved at all. Alfred Tennyson
The ascerbic taste of a barbed heart being suffocated causes the mind to fill with vitriolic thoughts. Lingering in the air, the scent of venomous emotions cover the face with creases of pain and regret. Torture is present, the reluctant acceptance of releasing grip and…
Running around my mind, never stopping or even pausing. Forever there, in front of my eyes, beautiful and beaming, vibrant and enthused. Your smile lights my day, your laugh lifts the room. I lose hours looking into your eyes, melting into your smile, dreaming about…
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row. That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw the…
The musician is perhaps the most modest of animals, but he is also the proudest. It is he who invented the sublime art of ruining poetry.
Eric Satie
Like arsenic coursing through veins, the bitter taste of lost affection meanders the soul. The taste of a caustic apple coaxes the mind to regain focus, to regain purpose. To start a’fresh, to find youthful innocence and lustful vigour… …to breathe the bark of a…
As I look up at the crisp and still evening, the cold air causing my breath to linger in front of my face, pausing before slowing trailing away, I’m reminded that Winter is upon us. The grass crunches under foot with its frozen coating, the…
