It is as if the fireworks of the new year burnt my finger tips and revealed a shadow behind my heart...
Though my intentions are often misunderstood... my mistakes are not.
As I brushed apathy onto my teeth, I stared into the face of regret...
My heart fell to my feet and spread between my toes...
The trash he weeps and the recycled memories he chews--
My favonian edenic days have long passed... and the Skin's soil dry, the eyes rain give no bloom.
its like about pain and anger.
anyway, been a while, hope stuff is good with ya
~Mitch
~Mitch
the use of light is intense