UntitledOn the brink of insanity,Untitled by ~Kre8tiveVisionary
the verge of healing.
On the fence of regret
and moving past
The tug between fighting tears
and welcoming them
Black butterflies flutter--
moths drift from the wounded heart
to the damaged soul
Knocking at her lids,
begging to greet her face.
Her strength fails.
Her skin is soaked
with reality--everflowing reality:
the dream never came true,
will never come true.
the non-existent pavement,
all of which peel her weak body
from her cold bed
When Two Halves Separate...There comes a time when people we once knew shatterWhen Two Halves Separate... by ~Kre8tiveVisionary
the illusion we foolishly held to be true.
Differences in opinion become immovable objects
as views collide and no one wants to compromise
for the sake of being right even after contentious
circumstances where everything goes wrong.
Change is welcomed only when accompanied
by a sense of direction, but we senselessly
butt heads after failing to see beyond the scope
of our own insecurities.
Longing to go nowhere acting childish
like wildly running fast with forks in our hands
only to trip over indecisions about which way to go as the
singular path split into two and we