know hope

And the sounds of a broken city speak riddles;

minor symphonies of secret hearts.
-Know Hope
attempting to make a house a home

in a fearful attempt to see ourselves as our surroundings

protecting ourselves from the times with the times

Quicksand

carry this heavy heart as if it were yours

familiar faces

read the cracks on the sidewalk like your fingers would scars and your eyes would a map

see where we were(nothing can change this love i have for you)

the times wont save you (this rain smells of memory)