Storm

The sky is grey.
Left unpainted, abandoned
By your hand as you
Coloured my soul
In watercolour radiance. 

Flying Cars

There is something romantic
About self-destruction,
You once said.
That should have been my first warning.
So I shouldn't drop diamonds against my skin,
In penance for your departure.
For birds aren't meant to be caged,
And reality is a gilded.

Modern Mentality: Three

To Do List:

-Inhale
-Exhale
-Repeat