Crawl Space

November 29, 2012
Lithe and crisp
Encompasses me
Aching and feeding off of every wrong turn I make
The wheel wails
And trees seem to shake the wind
As I’m unmoving
Remote in my piercing nostalgia’s desert
I don’t
And can’t hear anything
As I breathe in the blue moon’s light
And suddenly feel the whispers
Edging through my bones
That tell me they miss me
But are never coming back.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback