WORDS: Yet to Come.

Thursday, November 07, 2013


Lately, I forget who I was.
The girl who had no real talent, 
save stringing sadness in words so well
it made people cry.

But I stopped. It made you happy,
and I could hope that I'll ring happy.
 Now we live in this pretty pretend
where the hollow hum of Honesty grows faint.
Yet you fall fainter.
and I gain clarity.

Maybe now I'll have the heart to pen to paper
and not need to steal pins or lyrics of a song, to tell
that even in the darkest of my daydreams,
the best will always be, yet to come.
And you can come with
or eventually,  forget who I am.



PILLOWTALKERS:
Pillowtalk Bolster

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