Saturday 11/16/2019 11:15:00 PM

maybe it was time that convinced us. to consider the edge. how our words falls off into the darkness. turning every touch into an echo of what we once were.

it must have been the distance that spent us. intimacy choking on nickels and dimes. lost tends to find us just when we think we've reached where we are.

we waded through the thick of our flesh. needles sewing without thread. the storm wearing us. in scabs and blood.

the thieves were familiar as they stole what we'd already lost.

we ran softly. in the shadow of our expectation. souring slowly as circumstance disagreed.  losing ourselves  in the miles meant to find us.

we counted the cages we had constructed. all our want simmering just below the surface. all the  monsters that fill in our hollows.growing restless.

we tipped the pot. it all spilled out.

the colors faded. the noise was gone. we were strangers again.

0 comments:


| Alcoholic Poet Home |
Copyright 2005-2018. All Rights Reserved.