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Dec 2017
Your sentences were gated,
And locked within your lungs -
Your words forbidden fruit to me,
The apple of your tongue.
The uninspired oft’ find it hard
To leave another’s song unsung.

So I harvested your phrases -
I burglarized your breath,
And nurtured all your laden words
‘Till there was nothing left.

And living with your hollowed words,
I died a stolen death.
Caroline Roche
Written by
Caroline Roche  F/California
(F/California)   
2.2k
     --- and ryn
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