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vestigixlPoems
the scratching of pencil on paper sounds like how your nails scrape words over my dry skin in the dim light. reminiscence is essential. beyond the window grilles, there is nothing but silence. so i manifest noises by tapping my feet against the smooth parquet or by standing near clocks to hear their hands tick away. it is more comforting than it should be. if you could feel my anxiety, or drink in all my nervousness, then you would understand— why i am always unsure. i believed too much in gods and luck. my spirit is limited in a case of transparent hope, tinted by whispers which haunt me to no end. and so tells the story of how i came to stop believing. - - -
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Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
decibel
the scratching of pencil on paper sounds like how your nails scrape words over my dry skin in the dim light. reminiscence is essential. beyond the window grilles, there is nothing but silence. so i manifest noises by tapping my feet against the smooth parquet or by standing near clocks to hear their hands tick away. it is more comforting than it should be. if you could feel my anxiety, or drink in all my nervousness, then you would understand— why i am always unsure. i believed too much in gods and luck. my spirit is limited in a case of transparent hope, tinted by whispers which haunt me to no end. and so tells the story of how i came to stop believing. - - -
vestigixl
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vestigixl
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 1:31 AM UTC
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