black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

What use is sleep, when reality is more beautiful than my dreams could ever muster?

M.K. Standby

Don’t give your heart to a poet – we see stories in a sentence and haunt you with our ink.
M.K. STANDBY

Haunt Heart Ink Ourselves Poet Story
A dishonor greater than any affair, is that of a friend who never was.
M.K. STANDBY

Affair Friendship Greatness
Lies sound so sweet when they are wrapped in velvet, a luxurious deception that charms my restless spirit – and I’m forever taken by beautiful things.
M.K. STANDBY

Beautiful Forever Luxury Lying Myself Sound Sweet
Your arms around me – and for the first time in years, I feel like I am home.
M.K. STANDBY

Home Intimacy Love Myself Relationship Yourself
And in the end when the money is gone – will you still stay it was worth it.
M.K. STANDBY

End Money Willing Worth
Don’t waste your words on me, your face speaks in volumes that your breath could never reach.
M.K. STANDBY

Breathe Face Reach Waste Word
Just tell me that it won’t be the same- that one day I won’t look at you, and only see a stranger.
M.K. STANDBY

Future Myself People Stranger
Your kisses fell on me like sand through an hourglass – a thousand tiny moments, for an eternity of stillness.
M.K. STANDBY

Fall Heart Kiss Moment
We didn’t know it was simpler, did we? Those days of sunburnt youth and carefree adventure. Knowing that indestructible optimism would waver with experience – would I have gripped it a little tighter? Held on a little longer?
M.K. STANDBY

Adventure Experience Hold Known Simplicity
And in the end-you didn’t deserve my thoughts or my ink.
M.K. STANDBY

Break Up Deserve Heart Thinking
A fight of a thousand years – the smart mind and the hopeful heart.
M.K. STANDBY

Fight Heart Hope Mindset Smart
I think the scars that you left me, they remind me you were real.
M.K. STANDBY

Myself Reality Reminder Scars Thinking
My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
M.K. STANDBY

Myself Plagiarism Thinking Writing
Spirits dance on a velvet night, the sky it’s deepest black. In restless sleep and twisted dreams, they find themselves alive.
M.K. STANDBY

Alive Black Dance Dreams Night Spirit
I wished to every fountain, prayed to every god but some futures are set in stone – so here we go again.
M.K. STANDBY

Fountain Future Myself Prayer Stone
Maybe this time I choose ignorance, because giving began to feel like losing – repairing a house from rubble, and making sandcastles with the ash.
M.K. STANDBY

Beginning Choice Home Ignorance Time

What use is sleep, when reality is more beautiful than my dreams could ever muster?

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What use is sleep, when reality is more beautiful than my dreams could ever muster?

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