there are moments when i’d look into your eyes watching the little speckle of green collide with the hazel taking naps beneath your eyelashes.i sat silently watching the peaking mountains of destruction beat within my heartbeat.and when I'd look into the mirror, i'd find you.alone.afraid. ambitiously seeking souls of refinement.your dignity rested between the cracks of my fingers, like rippling waves pounding against your soul. your body…made of sand and white seashells.perfect seashells wrapped around my neck, collected for vanity, resurrection, heartbreak.
street love.the kind that sneaks behind you, breathing its poverty around your neck, spelling your name with it’s tongue, while closing your eyes in orgasm.the kind that makes you believe in love so blinded by insanity.the kind that makes you fight the war that won’t stop in the love of God;the kind that grabs my mind and places it gently on your stomach, listening to your organs sleep and your heartbeat eating.the kind that gives you power and leaves you seeking, draining your mind, stealing your heart and leaving it deep, shoveled in placid rain.my love is my love.and it’s the best thing that will ever happen to you.
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