One kiss, two souls, cut from the same cloth, with those three words, you made me whole. On the count of four, our paths alined. The world hates, we’re two of a kind.
Feels like I’ve been here so long. So I strain to think back, to when things weren’t so wrong. But all I see is my hands cuffed in a sweatbox. So I strive even harder, trying to forget about locks. No! I’m in a cold court cell and like a scared snail, I retreat aloneContinue reading “Remembering”
She was tequila rose, he the Lynchburg oak. She said more with one look, than any word she spoke. Warmth, emancipated by her soul, melts away at the snow. Revealing a taste of what all want to know.