comfyquiet

Folds in our hands, Folds in our minds, Folds in our hearts, Creases tempered by time and actions.

The sooner you quit something that stinks, the sooner you can find something that doesn’t.

Just the guitar, ok cool

These are the groups most heavily profiled and punished through prohibitionist law. I don’t think this is an accident. These laws have political support precisely because they target people that voters don’t want to see or know about.

I’m angry that horrible people can treat good people that way and get away with it.

In you I’m lost.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops – at all -

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet – never – in Extremity, It asked a crumb – of me.

These memories recede As quietly as they surface. Faint traces of distant moments Tinged with bitterness and sweet mirth.

Memories of shared company, Of laughter and togetherness. As companions imprint on each other Trinkets of words, actions and kinship. Until insecurities engulf their intentions in fire, And all the fragile trinkets lay scorched in dust.

Sometimes our people slowly disappear, As wax fades from a burning candle. And all that's left is an empty space Full of singed memories. But there is sapience here amongst the quiet. That all good things come to pass And what once was, was truly good.

People fade, memories remain.

I keep your secrets where I keep your promises but you need my confessions about as much as you need my lies

Well, you never knew exactly how much space you occupied in people’s lives. Yet from this fog his affection emerged – the best contacts are when one knows the obstacles and still wants to preserve a relation.