Unraveling the Ball of Yarn

March 6, 2009
More by this author
Obsess, and never touch the ground
Melting fortunes against the tide
So thick like this head of mine
Still waiting for some kind of prize
You echo with your tame complaints
easy to read, but harder than mine
Until I reveal the drowning notes
I sit here with a placid smile on my face
A secret door machined into my brain
And scream with anxiety, tenderly laced with fear
A mother's kiss to ward away the monsters
My mind is empty, and low to the ground
You claim to read
And that's what I want. For the moment I believed you heard my dulled plea
Hidden behind a wall of endless tormenting dreams
Dreams that keep me so alive
I might talk so much so, that I'm as dug under as a simple boot imprint
But who am I to know myself
Who are you to find the red in me

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback