Nothing actually savors on the tongue
Everything is temporary
Glimpses of Memories Past might be saved
along the creases in your mind,
But they dissipate with the particles in time
Wheels may turn and gears might crank
All will not really be there
Bruises that once covered the ridges of your breastbone
Fade into the skin, the marrow, the blood
Pushing and pulsing that had felt right
Will only be dreamt of as wrong
Home is never a sturdy thing,
No matter how deep the foundation goes
Time likes to play us like a fish testing bait
The fun of it makes us unaware
That we've lost the hook on what we're looking for.
Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
Nothing actually savors on the tongue
Everything is temporary
Glimpses of Memories Past might be saved
along the creases in your mind,
But they dissipate with the particles in time
Wheels may turn and gears might crank
All will not really be there
Bruises that once covered the ridges of your breastbone
Fade into the skin, the marrow, the blood
Pushing and pulsing that had felt right
Will only be dreamt of as wrong
Home is never a sturdy thing,
No matter how deep the foundation goes
Time likes to play us like a fish testing bait
The fun of it makes us unaware
That we've lost the hook on what we're looking for.
