.
a perfect ideal...
They scold us
thinking we are all the same...
My heart says I'll be just fine
But my brain says otherwise...
The pink string wraps around
her slim arm, while it’s other end...
In the beginning
you gathered the wood...
and if you ever feel like giving up-
Remember the stars in the sky...
Who am I?
One who hates to hear a baby cry, who loves eating...
Colors scatter down Lansing street
like a box of crayons; drowning in a gutter...
(Despair)
In this my skin it's still empty here...
They're mixed emotions
Heated to a boil...
When my short-lived Vacation is over
My precious time under the Sun is done...
threading twelve needles
through many flooded cave networks...