the ups and downs are killing me.
the worse part is to come,
simple sins,
oh these feelings are sins.
imagine a gun
of hopelessness
with a terrible
trigger
like wasp wings
ready to flee.

oh my heart,
it does not grow,
it only gets cold
then warmer
then colder again.

sound fills my heart
but it doesnt work its way out
oh honey there is so much
personal sin here.
and the worst part will come.

remember, the sanctified soul
is a temple of guilty ruin.

10/13/2011

Posted on 10/13/2011
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