http://thebjoernsons.deviantart.com/art/fly-away-77743387
i struggle to yield the feeling that we are clenching fists 'round clusters of sand. secretly, or not so Secretly, pleading for the consistency of rock. constantly wearing away, wearing down, wearing thin. you harness thin like it's the latest style. but the latest truth is that you're swimming in lakes of crimson vermouth. grasping for the stronghold, steadying upon perches in the flutter. the butterfly flew above the lake, mocking your inability to escape. and again we find the faulty mind fail to form lines of truth. sentences string together like christmas cranberries. those moments faded now, we found nothing but grains in our dirty hands.
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my God, you were beautiful in dim moonlight.
