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4. (Columns)
Folder:
Shorties We layed it to rest where the columns stood
where,
every morning the world would reunite us
and I would feel infinite
But we broke the promise and the code
and in the end our hands went empty,
groping for loose change under the
couch
The sun glinted off the reservoir as
we took the curve
and held hands, and
spoke of fishing trips that
we can't take anymore
Right now I find the air unbreathable
dusty,
like a third world war
and I realize that sound inside my
mouth is an utter excuse of a lie
because I have done nothing but
paint columns of white for you,
when all you wanted
was the truth
As always, your art is
As always, your art is beautiful and guides the reader gently into the moment and emotion of the poem.
Thank you so much. I hope you
Thank you so much. I hope you are having a very nice new year so far. :)
"It is a terrible thing to be so open. It is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world" -- Sylvia Plath.