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ryan-patrick-walshPoems
Honestly I've been honest with you since the beginning, I think, but there is this lingering note on your face that keeps me in dis array about what was true and what was fake, Can you give me a hand and stand in a way that displays a truth about the inner ways beneath that gaze?! PLEASE try something like this or that, like, Because I'd hate to see what you mean to really say is that you might be waiting for someone who was displaced, Or is that just me? Long gone and late in a phase that's out of place and perhaps, well, my love, with your torn soul in two and into my lap like a warning tap on the top of my arm, It told me, It told me not to trap you because, well, what's Harmful to you is often too strong on me, four weeks times three, or maybe four? Oh god and with these mistakes (as you know), I seemingly need it to bleed, stream down my eyes like tears and in fear, Because time is often too long here, (As you know), Honey, can you hear me? Deep inside please give me a sign because it was coming to be about that time in the road! And that fork told me that it's going to need more from you to recuperate because so much time and effort makes repair so much longer, Because sweetest, the love I have is the trash on its way, the ash still burning in the tray, The blast still shaking with waves but, the mast is facing the wrong way.
0
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 6:01 PM UTC
A Defensive Aggression
Honestly I've been honest with you since the beginning, I think, but there is this lingering note on your face that keeps me in dis array about what was true and what was fake, Can you give me a hand and stand in a way that displays a truth about the inner ways beneath that gaze?! PLEASE try something like this or that, like, Because I'd hate to see what you mean to really say is that you might be waiting for someone who was displaced, Or is that just me? Long gone and late in a phase that's out of place and perhaps, well, my love, with your torn soul in two and into my lap like a warning tap on the top of my arm, It told me, It told me not to trap you because, well, what's Harmful to you is often too strong on me, four weeks times three, or maybe four? Oh god and with these mistakes (as you know), I seemingly need it to bleed, stream down my eyes like tears and in fear, Because time is often too long here, (As you know), Honey, can you hear me? Deep inside please give me a sign because it was coming to be about that time in the road! And that fork told me that it's going to need more from you to recuperate because so much time and effort makes repair so much longer, Because sweetest, the love I have is the trash on its way, the ash still burning in the tray, The blast still shaking with waves but, the mast is facing the wrong way.
Written by
ryan-patrick-walsh
Irish
May 2, 2010
May 2, 2010 at 6:01 PM UTC
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