black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

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

So long as we share a sky, in this life and any after – I’ll find my way back to you.
M.K. STANDBY

Finding Share Sky Way Yourself
I feel like I’m on fire, fighting for a moment on respite – I’m not placing bets.
M.K. STANDBY

Feeling Fire Moments Place
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
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
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
Her body may lay on your sheets, but my name sits softly on your lips.
M.K. STANDBY

Body Lips Name Softness
The rain reminds me of his voice, a perfectly composed melody in the sky. Each drop that falls against my window, a dedication to the oceans I would cross – just to sit beside him.
M.K. STANDBY

Himself Myself Perfection Rain Reminder Voice
I think the scars that you left me, they remind me you were real.
M.K. STANDBY

Myself Reality Reminder Scars Thinking
And when I imagine my home – above all else, I’ll always think of you.
M.K. STANDBY

Home Imagination Thinking Yourself
My thoughts feel like plagiarism – a feeling already felt, the words already written.
M.K. STANDBY

Myself Plagiarism Thinking Writing
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
Building a fire from a ash, what did I expect?
M.K. STANDBY

Build Expectation Fire Myself
It started the way it always does. A broken heart, and a blank page.
M.K. STANDBY

Heart Broken Page Start
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
And in the end when the money is gone – will you still stay it was worth it.
M.K. STANDBY

End Money Willing Worth
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

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?

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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?

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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