There’s no light that comes
when the day crashes to the ground
and bruises.
It fades, weaving and gliding through
places where we once left
our ghosts.
Watch them; now they laugh,
now they mock our sullen eyes
and dance.
Watch as they soak up
the brightness of our minds
and fade.
They quiver, then vanish
from the hollow places inside
our heads.
Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 2:08 PM UTC
There’s no light that comes
when the day crashes to the ground
and bruises.
It fades, weaving and gliding through
places where we once left
our ghosts.
Watch them; now they laugh,
now they mock our sullen eyes
and dance.
Watch as they soak up
the brightness of our minds
and fade.
They quiver, then vanish
from the hollow places inside
our heads.
