Monday, 30 November 2009


Out of sight is not out of mind,
when she's printed on every thought you find.

Out of reach, close enough to touch.
This is the day that you'll care too much.

Out of hope, left with despairity,
as your soul whispers of it's duplicities.

Out of time, before it's begun.
Cut out your heart and feed it to anyone.

Drowning in photographs, pictures of trickery.
Stains on the carpet.
Stains on the memory.
Both of us know... that's how the ending will be.

No comments: