Dreams Lay Cold At The Bottom Of Forgotten DustBins

The start...

mellow




a cool
gentle
                                                 
pitter patter


of
falling
                                       

raindrops..




lullaby


soothed
calmed
and contented

enveloped
stone roses
in warmth...
and light..



nurtured.





my soul painted in water color



placed on display.





Tripping on
storm clouds.





grey skies




vehement winds


flooded memories..

a open
book
empty pages..


you filled

with hateful scrawl

                                           
jealous words


unattainable dreams...



bled


crimson
to lay thickly over


water colored beauty...




picked and pulled
till nothing remained.




An axe to stone
a slow crumble





High hopes and superman complexes..



Throwing fuel
on fire



contaminating innocence
with soft spoken words...


tormenting trigger happy fingers.


Bipolar parasite.



You
Gathered petals
with shaking
hands

In hopes that glue
would hold,

your final attempt
to flood the void
and fix the broken...



Strong winds blow



                                                                          and petals turn to dust


another dream to lay



cold


                                                                     at the
                                                                                           bottom of





                                                                  forgotten dust bins.