I can Harley say that I’m not a joker. But owl see in court if my night wings can be stretched. Robin me with guns pointed yelling, Mr., Freeze. Cold to the touch and diving as a penguin to take the plunge. I’m riddled by the two faces I see. Dents made on hoods to
Day: October 27, 2017
I once was looking for ways no longer held by broken promises. Scars of my past bleed again. As I faced dry eyes from the rivers of tears I used to drown in. But my Father kept calling to return back to Him. Folded pieces of peace pieced together to mend my soul. Ocean no
I write to escape these cold, lone nights. Though these words could be despised. Rhymes and times with these letters shed light. Giving me a warm sense of my existence. Keeping me company so I dont fall prey to addictions. Cutting skin deep and using it as ink. When I write, I bleed.