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little strings

remembering something lovely

remembering a dream

I fall into myself, I fall out again

I get so lost, so empty

and when my eyes open up

I am just a loose,

simple image of myself

just a pretty little doll

that walks and speaks simply

I awake, dress, eat, deliver

I drink, speak, break, sleep

it is so lovely, I forget to stop

and so like clockwork I am running

and I fall into and out of step

my own footprints

little trails of little patterns

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Written by
rachel-strowbridge
American
Published
Aug 2, 2010
Lines·Words
16·86
Permission

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