August 9, 2012
Your words
reverberate through my spine
they fall from your lips
and carry me to the safest places
where musings of death
are laid to rest.

So, when you ask me if I’m well,
I’ll tell you I’m fine.
I’m spectacular, really.
I feel most comfortable
being seen through
the hole in your heart.
But the pen
to paper
is not enough for me
to scribble down
a sonnet.

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