she talks alot and remembers times when nothing seamed in place.
-i can feel your fingers trace the poetry onto my spine. tinkling words trickle along the lines that used to send me into cardiac arrest.
im not used to loving touch just a whirl win of horamones
charging at my little body and sending me down into this tunnel.
she needs everything she cant handle, trouble will mature her
just like those squinty situations will help her grow and stop her
hands from covering her ears, she must learn to not lean upon herself
not force this shadow of tiredness to protect whats really there
but she'll only let you in on this:
-barried here for oh so long the sunlight hurts my eyes
much like how your bodys not in rhythem with mine.
i cant find the space between us for contact
i cant make my body move like yours
i cant render up enough courage
to reach out for your hand-
No comments:
Post a Comment