Selfish
The waves consume our feet,
As we feel,
Perfume of the sand
The moon make smirks look like smiles.
As it shines down on our faces.
Night makes things more fictional,
Like were writing our own story.
And when you have nothing to lose,
Anything is now possible.
We will eventually lose our way.
From our dreams,
Fantasies,
Reality.
But when you go to another world life seems more reasonable.
Love is more likely.
And the hollowest of hearts are always filled.
I seem to lose myself a lot.
In the new found world of mine.
I think I might go back later.
This time I'm not going to share.
Copyright © Allison Bowser | Year Posted 2011
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