Moving In
You wouldn’t know, Would you? You don’t ever read me, Do you? And then talk about How you understand me The way no one does, But she would read me Like what’s going on, And then she would know What’s going in My heart and
All posts by Scottshak
Mute
What’s wrong if I spill myself out? I die tomorrow, don’t you know? Maybe you have all the time in the world, Maybe I am running out, And you have no idea how, But each passing breath is a goodbye From this cold world. And
Fortune
Two men were fighting, So I put a ring around them, And bet on them As people paid To see who would win – I made a fortune.
No Crossing
You have your life, I have mine, Why mess things up? Let us be Where we are. We are seamless now, We might seem less then, When we tie our threads, And end up in a knot. When hearts collide, No one survives, Don’t you
Monster
You aren’t so close to me That I start whispering secrets In your ears, These secrets are afraid of distance, And if you were near I would be talking to your eyes More than to your ears, I might slip them down your lips, And
The False Protagonist
Maybe I read too much In my wilted time, And crumble when I don’t find You, in my pages. Red eyes scour you, Like you were written In there somewhere By my favourite author. Your mere mention Thrills me so, That every face Is the one
My Player
You take out the best in me Then play with it for hours, Fumble me in your fingertips, Poke me with your fun, Hold me so tight That I fear not slipping, But being toyed with For too long. I am written in dust, But
Pitch Black
So I walk into this room and it is painted in black. All the four walls, written in pitch darkness. For a second, I felt as if I have stepped into the night. But there were no stars or moon inside. Just a charcoal story
Corpse
I don’t rule out your possibility, never have. All the things they say about fate, gives me butterflies knowing how mysteriously I have been picked up and placed on a foreign land as if I were some part of a big plan, that I had
Poultry
My, my! What a life! What a life! Bred to breathe A moment, It passes by In a shuteye, And then I realize I am picked up To be ground In a machine Yet again; Did I not just die? Why repeat the cycle again,