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Poem

We spoke loud ripping through layers of insecurities and shadows. Unrecognizable at the reflection of what once was memories to be kept ,we weep. The thought of reviving what we thought would never die is a challenge unmatched and yet we fight. Using only what we know as weapons our emotions those poison thoughts in which charge up the ego and unleashes devastating blows to the heart ,the one thing that makes beautiful songs when cared for. A mysterious feeling of uncontrolled passion the highs and the lows and yet so cold like winter storms with no heat on the freezing nature that causes pause to time, only for a moment when the low sets in and the glass shatters from all the pressure when darkness sets in after the fire dies down that black soot awaking every feeling of disparities fear the realization that all that release really meant the let go the finally and for what intentional winters ended up just breaking a heart.

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