Sta.sh
if you were still here
i'd tell you how i'm afraid
to use the razor.
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everything in the past is goneeverything in the past is goneeverything in the past is gone by ~cowboyB0B
faded lead fingerprints on
tin walls mute memories of the roars
mechanized monsters play
lullabies of aluminum wind chimes
steam whistles and echoes of production
bottle an elixir
sickening sweetness, just ripe fruit
rivers of silver cans flow down uniform channels
imitation of rows in a never-ending orchard
the ephemeral morning fog
lists through sleeping trees
trunks tapped by syrup nozzles
the fountain of youth forgotten
flows through phloem veins
eternal life branching out
like roads on a map criss-cross
wide open country
civilization crawls further from the central trunk
a tired dehydrated core
rain doesn't come
not enough people cry over fallow fields
over winding roads washed away
cultivation of sidewalk crops
growing cities, stark grey buildings
inhabitants with empty hearts
and cold stares
they cannot love each other
you cannot find memories on the internet
everything in the past is gone
the trees are dead
with no hope for the fut
The Springtime PainterI long for the yellowsThe Springtime Painter by ~cowboyB0B
losing myself in a mustard meadow
a patch of gold in the natural quilt
strewn over the hills
an ocean of carefree memories
no worry of mudstained jeans
or wind-mussed hair
chasing the start of something new,
something as beautiful
as weeds growing in a sun-washed field.
I miss the whites
being invigorated by paper-white,
paper-thin petals
fragile messengers brightening
frosted mornings
aromas of ice-flowers that warm a static home
fresh laundry and strong coffee
the smoke of a wood burning stove
the arrival of sun as a new day begins
I desire the pinks
the hearts blooming on bare branches
a romantic snowfall blanket
as individual petals float down
with the grace of dainty dancers
a table of tea
guests dressed in lace
lullabies of love and light kisses
sprinkled on flushed cheeks
beneath forgotten trees
holding the buds of abandoned dre
I'm Finewalk a fault lineI'm Fine by ~cowboyB0B
fence-sit the options
tremors threaten under foot
chaos of inner destruction
lights strung along a wire
tangible stars in a windswept dream
snowglobe constellations
decisions spun dizzy
fragile bones broken,
weighted
thread snaps under pressure
hope fractured of being real,
being perfect
the scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shouldersthe scars on your shoulders by *ohsostarryeyed
are braille to me, so that i
can read your skin, so that i
can know you better.
i like to listen to your heartbeat
and how it resounds differently
from mine, just so beautifully
like two songs played in tandem
to harmonise in rounds;
i like to hold your hands
and rub your back
so that maybe my love
can find its way through your pores
and seep into your blood
(never can i find the right words
to tell you just the way you feel to me)
and to think that and how i nearly missed you
makes me miss you more
every minute and mile we spend
elsewhere.
i can't sleep with another body
in my bed,
but sleeping without you
leav
& the journal feature! c:
for the 
