|
please @ please hands together tied behind back time is immeasurable minutes [meaningless minutes] mean hours when your stomach’s sick with not sleeping or eating and there are these thoughts thinking you things like ‘this is enough’ ‘leave it alone’ ‘let it be’ and you whisper whisper whisper what you want to scream so no one knows that this is it (so she won’t hear you pointing fingers and placing blame on the one she struggles to overcome) in the end it ended up on me, comparatively i’m second rate (compared to what who and why her?) i tear me up and down and sew the seams shut with a smile shrug sigh and say nothing all at once i’m a million different ways to save uncertainty is something certain and the lucidity that carries itself in confusion is constantly unclear i say things that grow an inch a minute to make you see what you mean to me Older Entries |
