Thursday, November 28, 2013

The Yellow Brick Road Will Lead You Nowhere

Bricks are made with the color of love.

Shaded by the crayons you left behind for me.

Bricks make up the wall that I call writers block.

Bricks comprise the road that my writing follows when it seems to travel on it's own.

I wanted to use the bricks to build a castle in the sky

You used them to play a game of Jenga with my heart.

Now the bricks are colored with my blood.

I don't need your crayons anymore.

Bricks hurt.

-Insolence is Bliss


  1. Your words flow so well. I thoroughly enjoyed this post :)

  2. Hurting. Emotionally. Physically. You are a master of emotions.

  3. dang dude. you have a way with phrases.
    you can keep your theme and go off on tangents.
    "Bricks make up the wall that I call writers block." good xD

    So awesome, keep it up