"No one knows where the edge of the knife is,
and no one knows what intelligent life is."
My last song was bled from me when I gave my soul to the wind And I know that I seem far away but the fabric here is thin
By Sara Wynn3 years ago in Poets
"What did you dream about? How did you sleep? I’m sorry if I just blindsighted you. I hope to go blind laying eyes on you.
At first, it wasn’t just a cloud, when it thumped like a sledgehammer; bones cracking, shrieks of agony turned to grunts, reduced to whimpers;
Rain is shaken from the leaves whose blanket warms the rainbow river, the sun's reflection in her mirror, the moonlight illumined sea.
Only darkness, I imagine, but peaceful, however lonely, without feeling, on a tangent, never lethal for ongoing surly sweetness, no direction…
Stardust lingers in the piercing sun, suspended, like a spirit after it has left the body; incandescent fleck, aloof, illuminated,
Without discrimination, taking young and old, a patient shadow hiding, waiting-- "there." Expectant raven, he who receives leaves of gold,
By Sara Wynn4 years ago in Poets
I'm going to see if Heaven is real-- I know you've been wanting to know, and if I am gone for too very long, you'll know it's okay to follow.
The world is moving by outside and I am sleeping. I feel something small shift inside, but I am drifting... and I walk on.
It is Darkness that shapes us, and fondly; It chisels away at our weaknesses. But, it is the Light that hugs our edges, and together, they showcase our beauty.
It was all a funhouse illusion: warped mirrors, heartache confusion. Lights twinkle dim in a music cloud, spinning in a loud delusion.
Where will the flowers turn when the sun is clouded? No thunderstorm in sight- the world is surrounded. Where will true lovers go
