All I have left is writing.

So what can I do but write?

Shaving faces come at costs of doing it again, like life say Buddhists. Maybe she is right when she says I need only the new. Maybe this is blue, or white or red, like us Westerners are so highly known as pests. Sleep seems wise and ditching things comes as a nice surprise now. How can I hold onto anything that charts a fall. Even here it is no good for watching rhymes. I know the time remains aloof at stage.



Author: leeethomas

Visual Artist, musician and writer from Australia. Interested in Love and the Mind.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s