spend summer
grieving over grief
and dancing alone in a room that isnt yours;
in a love that isn’t yours,
in a world that isn’t yours,
in a body that isn’t yours.
grasp Time tighter
and gasp
in some (false) surprise
that it runs away even
faster.
it ceases to be yours
it ceases to be mine.
healing is painful
healing hurts
and sometimes forgiveness
is nothing except a
hand held and silent tears.
godspeed
we all carry
the broken wings
of some childhood
promise,
godspeed
i’ll change my hair again
i’ll bleach it
and colour it
and trim it,
trying desperately to clear my eyes.
vision? // vision
even with seven days
in the week,
i think i’ll always be tuesday.
start monday or sunday,
my heart tends
to tuesday
as i
tend to myself.
Kommentare