To be forgotten.
The spotless mind seems to be most appealing.
Brevity. Subtlety.
The silent letter.
So many lines I wish I'd written.
'Your very flesh would be a great poem.'
I'm beginning to suspect that I'm finding a new green space, and I'm not sure how to react to it.
Also, I've come to realize that the only voice I ever hear in my head is my own.
posted by . @ 9:01 PM
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3 Comments:
I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star
To pray on, or wish on, or something like that
I was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy
Whose reality I knew, was a hopeless to be had
But then the dove of hope began its downward slope
And I believed for a moment that my chances
Were approaching to be grabbed
But as it came down near, so did a weary tear
I thought it was a bird, but it was just a paper bag
Hunger hurts, and I want him so bad....
Hunger hurts, but starving works, when it costs too much to love
Fiona Apple is one of the most beautiful things. :)
new green spaces have new hidden spaces
:-)
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