If I died And no one knew, I don’t know. And I am scared And everything hurts
morning rays peeking through the c… dancing close to you quiet stories told in the dark sleeping in movie nights
As you walk away, Without looking back, I stand here, heart in my hands. I wish you had stayed Or that I’d done something differ…
Tired. So tired. My eyes fail and my soul gives up.
And we were always running never to but always from and always running... And we were always hurting never for but always from
Maybe I resent it because I know that since it meant so much it hurts so much more. And maybe I resent the fact
I want to hold your hand Tight in my own As we run far away To a brand new home. I want to cup your face
It is the emptiness, the nothingness, the in-between. Is it broken? Is it maimed?
The wind– A finicky rush That has to be somewhere else All the time. The faint echoes of summer
There are words that I was mistaken to say. There was one time when we were strangers,
All I have to say Is I am incomplete A story left unwritten A page left unturned But that does not matter
Muddled footsteps In the dirt, Wind in our ears, The sun Shrinks down beneath
I stand at the door What am I waiting for? A whisper or a breath To tell me to carry on? Carry on, carry on.
Wet paper arrows quivering against the bright string of the bow. The arrows
star-struck because stars are fictional, heavenly things. but
