The Chronicles Of Her

Exposed to her inner thighs

I just want to tell her I

Sit and sip this Spanish wine

I just want to breathe her air again

Fantasy or reality

Let’s forget these fallacies

Hand claps

Stuck in amazement

Growing pains

Aching brains

Painting this picture

Faint brush strokes

I don’t know

old colours come true

I don’t want to lose you

So I mix and mix

Hoping to get the right balance

The right blend

But I’m inconsistent

You see the density always changing

Life changing

Thoughts of hanging up my brush forever

Find a different path

You know it’s really hard

Standing in the rain


Looking in but no one answering

Pouring dripping stressed depressed

Still feeling this mourning pain

Still I’m the one to blame

I’m walking away

It’s all a shame

It’s all gone to flames


I’m at an incredible stage

Endorphin ridden

Wishing I got more

The last ounce

Maybe I want more

One last bucket left

Do I try or not

Knowing I could get more or not

Constant paradox that life

Should I get more or not

Processed thought

What colours next?

You tell me

This is the chronicles of her

But at the same time the chronicles of me

Pick up my crushed heart

And resurrect my broken brush

Paint my future

And blow a kiss to the present

As I get over my past

So what is?

To be continued

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