quasi_sean

maybe nobody is right.

never could the beauty be expressed the way it should have been for there weren't enough words that my mind could put together no silly syllables that molded into odes & comparisons of Angels even in my altered states when poetry seemed just a natural water that spilled from my mouth to paper, napkins, walls, whatever could be scribbled on the fastest w/o breaking the flow--the floooooooooooooooow, the streams of what seemed worthy at the time are now fading fast w/not even a photo to prove they ever existed &

my eyes drop to the floor where the flaws began & the happiness ran away as fast as it could--just thinking about the hollow numbed from the drink the sounds are still spinning and i'm crying on these sheets that still smell like someone i've never met, never spoken a word to, but i'm sure she's there...sure there is love that is waiting among these tears if only a chance to dance w/o fear of my mind and i'll swallow it all for one more chance at life...

and i'll follow you forever.