The joy of the day after
was the song of my soul
free from the restraints of
language, from the bars of
repression & rejection, the
way nobody wants it to be.
I don't have storage for all
of this love that I am penting
up inside. I place what I can,
what I have to, in closed-doored
hearts of friends who can't,
or won't, reciprocate. My love
is prisoner, starving for takers,
for a listening ear & a loving
heart.
Starving for takers,
but hungry for you.
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
The joy of the day after
was the song of my soul
free from the restraints of
language, from the bars of
repression & rejection, the
way nobody wants it to be.
I don't have storage for all
of this love that I am penting
up inside. I place what I can,
what I have to, in closed-doored
hearts of friends who can't,
or won't, reciprocate. My love
is prisoner, starving for takers,
for a listening ear & a loving
heart.
Starving for takers,
but hungry for you.
A bit old, about a month ago. Funny how fast feelings change.
