arriving in unwelcome days, over time we lose control.
written; an optimist smiles, his eyes punctured...
Perfection only lies in blury lines...
Linking the sounds through silence, to increase the meaning...
To hide destruction behind beauty, a new front.
Was to suffer through our names
our given idenity
To hide within memoirs
To breathe within shame
a bullet through a cheek, a new kiss,
a threat to self pity... a closing on our charade .
these bitten wounds become worse as this lets out of hand...
Old promises sewn in between what was and was created.
it becomes critical to open our eyes, to understand,
perceiving a lie that had been clensed. To reteach and edit,
the plain view creates shallow hopes, we never turn our heads.