Two-faced.
The emptiness pockets up my chest
Like a night thief
I've grown accustomed but weary
Candor-laced, the confidante
As time flapped its wings
I shrank in prison
The little wardens beside me
Kept me back with whispers
To the cell that has been
Licked clean with blood and tears
I am afraid of something
I cannot even name
Sleeping like doom in a crib of calm
I am afraid of two faces
Taking turns on the stage
Of my reeling
I am afraid.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 5:56 AM UTC
Two-faced.
The emptiness pockets up my chest
Like a night thief
I've grown accustomed but weary
Candor-laced, the confidante
As time flapped its wings
I shrank in prison
The little wardens beside me
Kept me back with whispers
To the cell that has been
Licked clean with blood and tears
I am afraid of something
I cannot even name
Sleeping like doom in a crib of calm
I am afraid of two faces
Taking turns on the stage
Of my reeling
I am afraid.
Request permission to use this poem