Solitude like honey glazed donuts?
more like barbed wire, engrossed you in
a casing of something called a torn
aorta
and it's pulsing, critically injured
doubtful that hope will tie every loose end
you're made of like
unwound thread, a dried piece of clay
left out too long (as you were)
and the artist stands- and does not visually
preview the masterpiece but
creates one in her mind
that maybe the boy who almost fixed
her,
allowed himself to be the scab
one last time
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Solitude like honey glazed donuts?
more like barbed wire, engrossed you in
a casing of something called a torn
aorta
and it's pulsing, critically injured
doubtful that hope will tie every loose end
you're made of like
unwound thread, a dried piece of clay
left out too long (as you were)
and the artist stands- and does not visually
preview the masterpiece but
creates one in her mind
that maybe the boy who almost fixed
her,
allowed himself to be the scab
one last time
