powerful as the open air
yet still wading against
the shimmering night
"I'll paint the night black again"
maybe he didn't say this
I wonder what it would take
to feel the indifferent forms of me
breaking through the brittle bark of the tree to
breathe freely through myself knowing nothing is really here
except the smallest drop of rain god ever made
.
4 comments:
I loved reading this. It's the easiest and hardest thing to think about it seems.
xo
I really love the last two lines... you have such vivid imagery packed with so much feeling. :)
and I'm not even sure that little drop of rain is here, think it just went up in smoke. <3
Awesome!
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