

pudEndings and drifting leaves air acts like water's surface for beauty's purpose thoughts mimic such windbound things and dance on gusts and twists of strength you are in this, you are present proving chaos can be calmpud
But what disfunction you would have for this the most fruitful of my branches pushing defiantly outward into the ever twisting air
And I sit in the comfort, in the shadow of my belief searching unendingly for the new words to explain the same feeling the same moment we find the simplest route within a sigh i am brea


straMinds who found solace in the denial of logic forsaking their comfort as the moment called for such irritability to be able to question unendingly to take on the mindless thought and leap unhindered into the arms that can promise nothing this is faith not the flapping pages not the clean slate and forgiving eyes not fear's suffocating wombstra


glassknow that these droplets prove i once kissed the lip of your optimism and that i will not regret the switftness with which i left that comfort to stand now halfway down the nourishing moment to stare back in overexertion and question my motives but there is no denying that I did suck up the fruit of the moment how calmly we sit in this comtemplative stage breathing for no reason but to see if anything changes the beats of our fingers run through the instant kill the calm and make nothing of the only something i have left so that i can say triumphantly surely that thglass


kiss them on the faceour dreams will come to quick fruition no matter what you say empty words mimic your empty thoughts no matter what you say these ears will cling to my own mind and our virgin uniforms will change hue to fit the situation such stark crimson against your cerulean ceilingkiss them on the face
incorpereal mists shroud the moments and I find enough time to forget the lost but this motion is empty and the regrets and weighing down far to hard the windmill keeps turning and grinding away at our beliefs, our convictions, while we stand under the sun with pitchforks held high like the gods we a
--
[Sand is over rated, its just tiny rocks.]-{Eternal Sunshine}
Oh, tell me where are you hidden
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