creampuofs

I don't like what comes out. I'm no saint, just another traveler on a worn road. Meandering paths, meandering words...an apple with a bruise. A sunflower without seeds. Curtains that refuse their purpose, it's garish. Ow, my eyes....but that's not the real problem. It just comes out wrong and gets misunderstood... bury me in my spelling problems. Warped grass; everything is slightly unsettled as of late. The end of this chapter is nigh, and I'm afraid. Claws digging in my head, I'm not completely comfortable anywhere. Everything seems like sleeping on a hundred beds but not sleeping well all due to a pea snuggled at the bottom of the heap. Pe

It's not nice to know All the answers when They build and swirl inside your mind Too conflicting for words It's not nice to know What to say When you don't know how to say it It's not nice to know The world But clueless as to how to live it Caught in a tangled mass of truths How do you know it...and do it? Doesn't make much sense; all sort of contradicting. Though I've never been good with sorting out my own feelings. :)