Sunday, November 25, 2012


small moments 
time inching
slowly across my face
weighing on my mind
dragging my own thoughts
deeper than my tongue can reach.

Raw and hungry
needing to want more
no place like home
a broken home
you can never go back too
a gaping hole
un-holy truths trapped unheard 
tied up with words I could never really mean

Here is where you touch me
and turn my head with whispers 
torn of my own heart
I listen spellbound
as you speak
pieces of my mind, like I give you
like this
I turn away because I can not face myself. 

1 comment:

  1. I've always had the exact opposite problem, of needing to want less