Friday, April 11, 2014

A Breath of Fire, Awake but Tired



I remember when God existed
in vomited apologies
and mental prisons 
when I was buried dismal, barely visible 
and no one worried quite like you. 
I lied more times than I'd admit to 
and that's the dead fucking truth. I gave 
you countless red eyes 
and only shared a few 
but broken for us was the better of ways. You were the lake, eerie as ever, 
and I was a rock breaking your strides 
as you aimed for the shore. 

No comments:

Post a Comment