Sitting in this room,
S e a r c h I n g for b r o t h e r s in my head,
Not the ones I’ve always had;
those that are united by a common womb.
But the ones who have infected me with a lush sense,
an unspoken quality,
who have a presence so surreal,
always speaking to my soul.
My non-birth brothers,
Criminals of the same shade of blue,
Boys with the pain of a quiet kind,
Paramount people in a pickled world,
Oh my brothers,
we are lines in the sand,
Definite and fading.
You are the ones,
the ones who meant something
To me.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 12:44 AM UTC
Sitting in this room,
S e a r c h I n g for b r o t h e r s in my head,
Not the ones I’ve always had;
those that are united by a common womb.
But the ones who have infected me with a lush sense,
an unspoken quality,
who have a presence so surreal,
always speaking to my soul.
My non-birth brothers,
Criminals of the same shade of blue,
Boys with the pain of a quiet kind,
Paramount people in a pickled world,
Oh my brothers,
we are lines in the sand,
Definite and fading.
You are the ones,
the ones who meant something
To me.
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