I wanted to paint over my memories
Of you
But I didn't have any paint
In your colour.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
To All Those Dreams That Never Made It
I used to think in clouds of watercolour
At night my mind would race
In pastels on a damp, white, hopeful canvas
But now when I go to pour the paint, it's dry
When a dream grows up, it dies.
At night my mind would race
In pastels on a damp, white, hopeful canvas
But now when I go to pour the paint, it's dry
When a dream grows up, it dies.