Written along the way


Giving it 


To grow 

is to let go
Haunted memories

In some sick dream

Of pictures I didn't mean to take

Make no mistake

It's not always all about you

The ones you hurt

Are not so easily disposed of

Like a peice of garbage on I-95



I adore the finer things.  I enjoy high-calibur people.  I love it when both things come your way once you believe.    All so approachable.   Surreal at moments but good energy attracts the finest of encounters. I LOVE seeing people get what they deserve.


Addiction sickness lust. Count it as a curse There’s not enough highs in the world Long days looking for you Nights with what’s left Count on me to come To find you while you’re getting lost Watch you and blow a kiss I’ll bring the sun and every moon you’ve missed Since you’ve been gone Counting shooting stars under the midnight sky

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