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ghostOur silhouette leaves a print in the atmosphere, we are from here to eternity, a diagram that says we were here, this is what you told me.ghost
From beyond rose bush, i imprint my brow in the sand, shiver with acknowlegment of dieties. My sobs echo and bounce like nightingales.
The receeding void is over the past years youve left a vaccum in your absence.
by ~burmesecat
Hustling and BuskingThe way I feel, my sun is the 2 o’clock bus, I didn’t sleep at dawn, Tobacco coats my tongue, Insomnia lags my bags.Hustling and Busking
This morning’s bird’s eye view, includes a bottle of whiskey and no sentiments
I feel like satin hippie curtains, I don’t brush my hair. Feel a dull shade clashing colours, like faded wallpaper.
Sombre faces flank the 52 bus, all my friends from the December rain. The stranger’s child holds his hands out to me, wondering why we’re all in pain.
I step out of reflection to watch my features, to separate real
by ~burmesecat
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: United kingdom
- Interests: movies, photography,books, fashion
- Favourite movie: cat on hot tin roof, vanilla sky, pulp fiction,25th hour
- Favourite band or musician: damien rice, pharrel william, frank sinatra, mouldy peaches
- Favourite genre of music: antything that's genuine
- Favourite poet or writer: jack Kerouac, haruki murakami, hunter s thompson
- Favourite photographer: terry richardson
- Skin of choice: black
- Favourite cartoon character: baby from family guy.
- Personal Quote: 'fortune favors the bold'. brave? thanks! but i prefer my way.
- Tools of the Trade: a mind in 3 dimensional technicolor
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C est en écrivant qu'on devient écrevisse
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Anyone who lives within his means suffers from a lack of imagination. --Oscar Wilde
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