He whispers in Dutch on my radar for trouble.
I'm drowning in hopes made of pink fragile bubbles.
His voice – a reminder of all that I need.
A flowery fire awaits to be freed.
I knew you were leaving before I was told. ...
I can’t handle the thoughts of you at night,
running in my head from side to side , leaving me speechless with so much to say even tho both of us knew this house of glass was never meant to last
I can’t handle knowing I wasn’t enough and you know I blame myself for you leaving me without a second th ...
I don't know you
but I know too well,
Your habit of not locking the door, and walking shoeless on the cold floor
Your worn pijama with small spots on it
Your messy hair which can almost always be seen in the air ...
With mended wings, but never broken,
He tames thy demons in the dark of night
And sings of thoughts long left unspoken…
A voice of angel … menace to the weak of heart.
And what was once so lost, forgotten ...
The flame of old is kindled with a burning passion.
The hopes and dreams return in a blinding fashion.
The watcher sees through the flaming fields of smoke,
beyond the veil of the heart which in countless pieces broke.
Words fall short and stiff like a coward on the edge of a cliff ...