i make a little mountain of work ( Read more... )

it's a crying shame ( Read more... )

backed into a corner ( Read more... )

It's Monday morning ( Read more... )

you were never mine to keep ( Read more... )

the girl, she sits singular ( Read more... )

pen to paper ( Read more... )

Lonely sonatas
take a winding sojourn through my head
making love to off-white ivory
standing long unused

Gentle puppeteers
held in place by vicious puppets
dance alongside souls
wanting for conscience

These false faces
shed beguiling smiles
shed winter's skin
shed open tears
and can face you no more.

[end]

sometimes i really hate the juxtaposition ( Read more... )

put your hand upon my head ( Read more... )