Saturday, December 6, 2008

the first snow.

it was the first snow
cold bitten fingers marred with ash
eyes filled to the brim with frosted tears
east end avenue-new york is ours
neverland is ours- and we'll never grow up

cold confessions wandered in silence.
bridges strung in diamond necklaces
promised dress-up when the tears were over.
are we alive? or are we freezing to death?
hearts burn for the hope of truth.

truth is rarely found in promises, or intentions,
rather in the coldest night, in colder confessions.
iced hearts break quicker than diamonds
don't hold your breath from me.
neverland is ours-and we'll never grow up

(amyleigh & katherinemegan)

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