Desiccation

my eyes, deserts, with relics of oceans long gone dry, a heart that can no longer break, as its turned to dust long gone in the wind the rains forsake, this one tiny ember needs such a kiss to blaze again, but dark clouds only tantalize, moving on to happier dunes

menoh

I am a button pusher. I stir up trouble. It is what I do. I live in the borders between light and dark. I can write about beautiful things, and joy and love, but I find I am more creative when i write about the dark. I love to hold a mirror up to the...

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