wild, like the wind in my hair

last book i've read: my poetry
currently caressing my ears: remix of imperfection, fb
general mood: floating
quote: "I don't understand people who like to work and talk about it like it was some sort of goddamn duty. Doing nothing feels like floating on warm water to me. Delightful, perfect." --Ava Gardner

foolish to believe the lie
you type to the screen, searching for answers
so then what's my part? do I get any part of your heart?
does the new paradigm win
while I continue to regret my choices, post-sin
knowing I may have already lost
the warmth you gave
trust in the feeling
knowing what you're creating
intending the best of times
while staring into brown eyes

the cold hollow of rejection, your lack of trusting affection
how long do we suffer for our sins?
what happens when your new life begins?
erasing the spot where I used to be
forgot that love never comes so easy
replacing these walls for some kind of free
carefully constructed sentiments stumbling over rambling roads
this isn't over, and you were meant to be wild, like the wind in my hair
life, never fair.