Sad Poetry: Postage Paid

open doors lead to abandoned rooms. we twist on the delicate strings time has woven.

strays in silken robes. chewing on the rusty needles that we imagine will close our wounds. 

our cuts weep softly to the ragged song of our desires. 

as we madly chase the horizon. poisoned by the whims of hope. 

orphans in fickle time machines. 

the years sway swiftly. a dirty pendulum. 

we challenge the wind. as the miles chew through us. 

our journey is long. our destinations sparse. 

the bark of crowded intersections our only reward.