Curving down a winding road.
I finally soaked into a door.
My emotions were statues,
Like concrete thread pouring the sky, a new blueish green.
Fear was it's own culture.
Demanding belief & hovering over those who could break, in seconds.
I could smell the rain.
My lessons, showed me how.
Taking me through night & pointing at the smallest pieces of of we are.
Causal days of ache.
I tarnished the old wool, parchment paper.
Everything I thought was real,
Became fragments & out of the pile, I found some of my reflection.
The scarred kindness of generality.
A life led from simple roses,
And yet the most deadly, tangible thorns & scarcely beat dirt.
Times become all too familiar.
Launching coins, off a thumbnail,
Into the only well within miles.
My feelings were frozen.
Trapped in lights in this darkened room.
Arching up a windy slope.
I finally became the door.
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 4:47 PM UTC
Curving down a winding road.
I finally soaked into a door.
My emotions were statues,
Like concrete thread pouring the sky, a new blueish green.
Fear was it's own culture.
Demanding belief & hovering over those who could break, in seconds.
I could smell the rain.
My lessons, showed me how.
Taking me through night & pointing at the smallest pieces of of we are.
Causal days of ache.
I tarnished the old wool, parchment paper.
Everything I thought was real,
Became fragments & out of the pile, I found some of my reflection.
The scarred kindness of generality.
A life led from simple roses,
And yet the most deadly, tangible thorns & scarcely beat dirt.
Times become all too familiar.
Launching coins, off a thumbnail,
Into the only well within miles.
My feelings were frozen.
Trapped in lights in this darkened room.
Arching up a windy slope.
I finally became the door.
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