Pointless
Originally Uploaded here by *Incarnadine*
Words would only grumble forth like slurred ramblings that belong in a Tom Waits song. Words like Why do I love you when I don't want you or pitiful and pointless protestations of Who am I would croak from these young lips like so many brandy filled geriatric mouthes. I'd write about them, but really they amount to nothing more than half filled desires and dreams, washed up on cold barren rock after empty promises of buried treasure. Disappointments, ice queens, distant loves unreciproating the true, and hollow hollow hollow desires that can't even and never could form themselves into something that would be described as passion.
Written On: Home Computer