robinbloke | (no subject) (Reply)

Values, they're all values wasted in an open grate before they pour away like drips of forgotten rain. Each one caught for an instant for it's dollar value before it slips once again through your fingers and is washed away into the sea of the past. And why was it raining, who called the raincheck, who ordered the clouds? They'll pass away, silver lining and cold greyness just a memory like everything else; no more words or songs for them, just a half remembered shiver from the chill winds. It's not that the rain was the problem, or the drips lost to the sea were anything more than just wetness that past your skin, it was the words they came with. The words echo far louder than the sounds, sights or scents because we've been trained and taught how important they are, the words can bury the feelings and confusion, or create more of them. Words with letters like raindrops.