Tell me that you care, the decency is there,
But it remains invisible. I cannot see why you evade the words.
You crush my paper heart, trying to rewrite your story,
Trying to find the perfect line, the perfect voice.
I am lost among the dashed out ink blots and the
Paper crumple veins like spider webs you hope to catch me in.
Being eaten alive implies a life, a heart, a pulse among the wrist.
Spin me into the quiet. Deep and dark.
Be gentle. A daisy. A kiss on the forehead with the words
"You are my always. And forever there you will be", tangled
In the web of my smile and heartbreak.
Tell me when my heart stops. Tell me when you hear the silence.
Take your heart sleeve in mine, worn and delicate,
Wavering in the wind, the art of our thoughts
Settling carefully on the blurred edges of sincerity.
So tunnel through the wrinkled pages, erase with care your burdens.
Write me. A tale with the daisy pressed like nostalgia
And the kiss of every always amid the cotton seams. The pulse
Of the pen nestled beneath the warmth of your sleeve in mine.
No comments:
Post a Comment