there is nothing more melancholy than a black bird wheeling against a cigarette ash sky. it dives to the rows of corn field stubs, skimming the surface, before scaling an invisble vertical wall. it wheels again and the cycle begins over.
i feel like a dandelion seed caught up in the winds of life. you caught me in your hands for a second and protected me, before choosing another, more dear object to hold close.
maybe someday i'll wake and find a different story on my path
- Location:home at last
- Music:house of cards - madina lake
Profile
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
charlotte_grace- charlottegrace;;
- miss lemons (; (my myspace)