Most of my inspiration is from sadness...When I write, I create a release..I have no intention of causing depression from my poetry, if anything I appreciate the ability to express it.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

I lost my gun in the dirt during a stand off with you, held back your shot while I scattered ...

I came to my senses and pulled out my defenses, a small pistol strapped below my knee..

I aimed in clear sight, my finger on the trigger..I couldn't pull it even if you made me..

I fear in my head that your love for me isn't there, hear the whispers of the townsfolk your lost.

These sandstone tombs lay around in my room, engraved the names of the ones who loved too much.

This revolving door has no where to go, It's turning like it should, but it hasn't stopped for me..

The parlors lamp lights make us forget that it's night, the dancers sin has filled this town..

 I won't let them bury me to the ground, nor will I deny who I am, I cannot pretend that my feelings are met...

 If my fate is the noose, hang my heart till I bleed, I'd rather face it now then eventually...


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