There was truly something magical about this antique shop. I walked through the door and couldn’t believe my eyes. There was a book, a diary per se. A peculiarly beautiful diary with leather bound hardback consisting of creamy papers yellowed a little by age. A kind of book that must have existed for about twenty nine years at least, with a soul that survived decades … Continue reading The diary
There’s something in it,The depth of those eyes,I know not,the serenity or wisdom,the coveted emotionsflowing in the river of thoughts,the sky hue, the shades of green,or an oceanic drop,I know not.But it is there,a fleeting soul empoweredfrom her past, a glint in the eyea smirk of cleverness,seeping warmthbehind the shyness,but it is there,something in the depth of those eyesI know not,maybe deceit and treachery. (c)boringbug Continue reading Depth
I lay afloat in the covet of my emotions, basking in the glory of my thoughts,blossoming like a flower nurtured within. (c)boringbug Continue reading Covet
In you, I shall trust,but would thou trust me back? (c)boringbug Continue reading Trust
There are some words inside of me, folded in a corner, unknown to others. Keen observation and perception seeing through the gauge of confidence as I see you astray through the waves of my memory. ©boringbug Continue reading Memory
Longing ahead, a stride of time, leaping through the seven hills, braving the currents, here I sit on the edge of paradigm. (c)boringbug Continue reading Seven sisters
The boring bug 