he whispers words to me that i don't
understand anymore
and i can't tell but
even to someone like me,
they don't sound like words
they don't even
sound.
they feel
like he's testing out the rush,
the scrape
of carbon dioxide across skin
stale and a little bitter.
stinging.
i can't hear him, anymore, and
he doesn't want me to.
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 10:58 AM UTC
he whispers words to me that i don't
understand anymore
and i can't tell but
even to someone like me,
they don't sound like words
they don't even
sound.
they feel
like he's testing out the rush,
the scrape
of carbon dioxide across skin
stale and a little bitter.
stinging.
i can't hear him, anymore, and
he doesn't want me to.
npwm 19
