This is how our world ends,
In that space between a heartbeat
And where our worst thoughts
Are lost into open air.
Isn’t it strange how acute
A simple sound can be?
How an uneven pitch can cut
The same as any knife?
Lines we set in sturdy stone
Are whittled down into dust,
Nothing more than a granite coat
Sprinkled onto cotton twine.
Faced with your whetted tongue,
You flay every boundary and beyond.
Our dreams are red confetti,
Quickly drying into tinder,
And it’s with the bitter taste
Of irony at its best
That we ignite our pyre
With the same spark
We once believed
Was love.
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Published by taylorfinn0810
I believe all people are bits and pieces, and throughout life we can gather pieces from others or give some of ours away. Some people are only out to take everything they can, while others will give until they have nothing left, but most of us fall in between. And yet there are those people who will defy all logic and simply toss there pieces into the trash, for nobody and nothing at all. I don't know if it's possible to get back those pieces that have been thrown away, but this blog is all about my journey, to try and find out if someone who threw away everything for nothing can find something, or anything at all...I'm just looking for a reason to keep on living.
View all posts by taylorfinn0810
That little light from your lampshade 
It is harsh, indeed, that hatred and destruction feed off the same energy that brought love into focus.
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