like an abandoned house, my body creaks.
the floors shutter inside
at the occurrence of any visitors.
a forgotten door remains open-
waiting.
she'll always be waiting.
by now, she's forgotten
if there's anything worth waiting for.
is there any music left in me?
is just feeling enough
to fill the silence?
i can still feel it.
i'm still spinning-
i'm spinning,
spinning,
falling back into poetry.
Jan 23, 2022
Jan 23, 2022 at 3:47 PM UTC
like an abandoned house, my body creaks.
the floors shutter inside
at the occurrence of any visitors.
a forgotten door remains open-
waiting.
she'll always be waiting.
by now, she's forgotten
if there's anything worth waiting for.
is there any music left in me?
is just feeling enough
to fill the silence?
i can still feel it.
i'm still spinning-
i'm spinning,
spinning,
falling back into poetry.