no one knew better than the gaurdian’s that year, so we’ll drink a bit more of the fire that’s there. Breathe it in deep, winters always been cold, we’ll retell stories when the kids get old, when the blinds finally draw and the pain starts to pass, we’ll speak of love that couldn’t last. those eyes will be glazed, and they’ll surely weep, when truth knocks at there door like wisdom teeth.
newest work, to be printed soon.
Followers,
Those of you who actually read this blog, thank you.
I no longer use this blog.
If you would like to continue following me please follow
Unlessyoumust.tumblr.com
If you’ve tried contacting me and have had issues doing so you can message me and I will provide you with my new email address also.
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Michael Vera
I was always meant to be alone.
I should really quit dreaming.
Nowdays, you’re a bit out of my league.
As long as were talking,
I’m hushing my hearts desire to speak.
(Source: youtube.com)
I am...
Old fashioned leather
A patch for finicky worn knees
The lace too short to tie
The letter never sent
The words no one says
