That guitar I've yet to playLays in a corner of my messy room.A spider resides insideIts wooden belly I suspect.-Old dusty webs whereThe music should ..
.you were stubborn like usand touched with a bit of the poet'smadness . yes?and we all agreedthough not a poet but rather a museof sorts ***** museof..
Well, are you still living there?In that sad place you've built out of sorrow?You know you gave me a key And I promised I'd visit sometime tomorrow.Bu..
Her shadow follows the moon.My laughter enters every inch of her sadness.She weeps, and says "I am not who I want to be."We kiss.Her sorrow has turned..