The words that are on my lips
Fall away like water beneath ships;
There is not a soul to give me tips
In this unfamiliar territory of pips.
I cannot utter a single word
To another person I'm like a bird,
Whose cries are far too high to be heard
Thus my insides begin to violently curd.
Under a rug my emotions have been swept
And only on certain nights have I wept,
All of my unruly doubts have leapt
Yet I still appear to be quite unkept....
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 1:19 PM UTC
The words that are on my lips
Fall away like water beneath ships;
There is not a soul to give me tips
In this unfamiliar territory of pips.
I cannot utter a single word
To another person I'm like a bird,
Whose cries are far too high to be heard
Thus my insides begin to violently curd.
Under a rug my emotions have been swept
And only on certain nights have I wept,
All of my unruly doubts have leapt
Yet I still appear to be quite unkept....
I feel like this poem isn't finished yet, but I thought I'd post it anyway :)
