I come to the end like I'm coming to a raindrop.
my daughter holds a daisy, and i hold a paintbrush.
these words, like god, hold me dear.
when i need comfort against the weight of the world.
I'm miss my time, i miss my freedom, i miss my clarity.
all i can do is start
anew.
These will be the fabric i pull from the washer,
only to soil again. i want to walk
to walk
to walk on..and not move
instead..
Eppur si muove.
i cant breathe. the silence in strangling me, where
in its place,
used to be laughter.
We used to be a team.
now, i just fight.
against you, against me..
against the who's and who-not's
why do i always feel like I'm caught in an undertow?
i can see the foam on my feet.
the seaweed on my groin
i can breathe the wet, and taste the burn of the leave...
but i cannot.
i cannot
i cannot
forgive the splash. it doesn't end, and wont explain why
to me.