Invisibility is a lonely place.
Quiet, peaceful, but empty.
There are others here, too.
But we're to afraid to speak.
for fear our voices will shatter glass of silence
that shields us from the rest of the world.
A desire rests deep in our hands
to strike the pane, color our knuckles with something
as real as blood and pain.
To see life in liquid form,
coursing down our pale skin,
grasp a hand from the other side
to be lost in deep words
with a like minded companion.
Traipsing down the deer trails of thought
while the leaves of dreams
fall at our feet.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 2:30 PM UTC
Invisibility is a lonely place.
Quiet, peaceful, but empty.
There are others here, too.
But we're to afraid to speak.
for fear our voices will shatter glass of silence
that shields us from the rest of the world.
A desire rests deep in our hands
to strike the pane, color our knuckles with something
as real as blood and pain.
To see life in liquid form,
coursing down our pale skin,
grasp a hand from the other side
to be lost in deep words
with a like minded companion.
Traipsing down the deer trails of thought
while the leaves of dreams
fall at our feet.
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