At night the voices die.
Each small creek,
Each small cry.
Each small dance, each small turn
My heart begins to burn.
The silence is loud,
It echos. The echos bound.
I turn to see my lifeless self,
I turn to see my selfless life.
As I cry.
I cry about how I became mine.
There are people to help,
I swear there are,
But for now I have to sit.
Sit and wait.
Wait for life to prevail.
Wait to start my tale...
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 6:48 PM UTC
At night the voices die.
Each small creek,
Each small cry.
Each small dance, each small turn
My heart begins to burn.
The silence is loud,
It echos. The echos bound.
I turn to see my lifeless self,
I turn to see my selfless life.
As I cry.
I cry about how I became mine.
There are people to help,
I swear there are,
But for now I have to sit.
Sit and wait.
Wait for life to prevail.
Wait to start my tale...
