Guest guest Posted January 10, 2006 Report Share Posted January 10, 2006 The house is empty And the walls scream As the paint freezes And the floorboards creak In this alliteration of silence, Out of the mouth of depression I pull myself upright I am resolute in exhausted Personified in hollow No one is home but These ghosts of what was How it could have been How it might have been How it should have been But wasn't My children fly, crash and sometimes burn They tear across my heart, scorch my soul I have even forgotten how my marriage once tasted When it was delicious, before cold scraps fell from the table, And the stains of my dog are long dry now, though I often Find myself running on his behalf. Running nowhere fast with this time I hold in my hands. And all that I see Is A still birth of another me, Losing heart, losing light Lost in what is. I am disappearing in this river of I am. Quietly drowning in my words. Ana Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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