Wednesday, February 11, 2015


It's arbitration time
Jury is out
It's hanging time
Just 365 days but who's the count
I read the lines
Nothing is what sits in perfect picture frames
I'm the stars you wished on
Never collected the grants

In the palm of my hands
She has a black iris
With out you she is dead

Veins run like paint
She sleeps alone
Empty picture frames