There is an emptiness
inside me
consuming my peace.
we are.
abandoned shoes
in the middle of the sidewalk.
rusted metal
car casings,
ribs
where the washed clothes
dry.
painted graffiti
in a hidden place,
whispered secrets,
bottled letters
to the ocean's waves
we are the ocean
the ocean inside the seashell
discarded pencil shavings at the nearby starbucks.
Unsteady hands
coarse, rusty locks
we are.
the staring blank spaces,
the screaming questions,
the tired voices,
they who do not speak.
we are
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 4:06 AM UTC
There is an emptiness
inside me
consuming my peace.
we are.
abandoned shoes
in the middle of the sidewalk.
rusted metal
car casings,
ribs
where the washed clothes
dry.
painted graffiti
in a hidden place,
whispered secrets,
bottled letters
to the ocean's waves
we are the ocean
the ocean inside the seashell
discarded pencil shavings at the nearby starbucks.
Unsteady hands
coarse, rusty locks
we are.
the staring blank spaces,
the screaming questions,
the tired voices,
they who do not speak.
we are
I wrote this a while back...kept it wedged in a book. I loaned the book to someone and had to shyly explain my mistake. well here you go.
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