black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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

M.K. Standby

I read that good things take time – but one look at him, and I knew I could never love someone more.
M.K. STANDBY

Goodness Love Myself Read Time
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
The leaves know when to let go – if only I had the same instinct.
M.K. STANDBY

Instinct Known Leave Let Go
And in the end when the money is gone – will you still stay it was worth it.
M.K. STANDBY

End Money Willing Worth
I see the way that he is with you – holding your heart with softness he never spared for mine.
M.K. STANDBY

Jealousy Myself Relationship See Way
Leaves dance on twisted arms, swaying on the breeze as though choreographed by unseen hands. Even the faithless could find themselves converts, by the smell of dampened earth and its blossoming rose.
M.K. STANDBY

Blossom Dance Earth Faith Hands Leave Rose Twist
The smell of oak reminds me of summers spent sleeping under canvas, crackling fires and roasted coffee, the soft sound of guitar and voices in unison.
M.K. STANDBY

Fire Guitar Reminder Softness Sound Summer Unison Voice
Scribbled lines and crumpled pages – piles of rejection and resurrection. There will never be the right words to amend a lost goodbye.
M.K. STANDBY

Goodbye Lost Poet Rejection Right Writing
In the pale light of a setting sun – I’ll hold your hand and promise to love you more, on the days that you forget to love yourself.
M.K. STANDBY

Forget Love Hands Hold Promise Sun Yourself
Hollow intent and echoes affection, a call with no response. Who could trust a dormant heart – where apathy is shaped like love?
M.K. STANDBY

Affection Echo Heart Hollow Love Shape Trust
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
You are a mirage – never mine to hold. A glimering promise so tempting to chase, eternally out of reach.
M.K. STANDBY

Forever Mirage Reach Temptation
It spills from my fingers faster than ink can flow – feelings too strong to contain, emotions that demand to be felt.
M.K. STANDBY

Demand Fast Feeling Fingers Flow
Peace found me in a wordless embrace – in the rising of autumn sun, and the sound of turning pages.
M.K. STANDBY

Embrace Finding Page Peace Sound
And when I imagine my home – above all else, I’ll always think of you.
M.K. STANDBY

Home Imagination Thinking Yourself
Born in one country and raised in another – seperated by ocean, but tied in blood.
M.K. STANDBY

Blood Country Immigrant Ocean

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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