Wednesday, 24 March 2010

Untitled

It’s a man touching your body
But never touching your soul

It’s being afraid of intimacy
Because you are so used to its company

It’s saving the world
But no one saving you

It’s the gift they despise you for
It’s the silence that comes after their applause

It’s sadness masquerading as joy
It's realising your arms are too short to hug away your pain

It’s not the cold side of the bed
It’s the cold

It’s not the phone that never rings
It’s the silence

...

It’s deafening.

1 comments:

Thunderfoot. said...

indigo this amazingness of yours is scary.

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