Mourning , love ~ morning , love - grief sounds the same

You should kissed me on my mouth , you would have tasted the gunsmoke , I keep shooting bullets but I always miss and turn and fire it at myself , I don’t have the strength to hurt you, the anger gone its justs turns to ashes and grief ...

~ I think you can bury us now ~ wasted years

~sometimes i think about you and write poetry , because you created the most beautiful words out of my mouth , when I have nothing good to say about you ...