Untitled #1A Poem by fictionletsusfly
And I keep thinking the days must be longer here.
There's no one to keep them from evaporating like they never were like they had no right to exist. What's the meaning of it all, really? Maybe the sun is different, burns me dry and tired. So worn that my bones feel brittle and I don't feel like breathing this used air. © 2014 fictionletsusfly |
AuthorfictionletsusflyNashville, TNAboutwriter / singer / musician / artist / lover / listener / teller of stories more..Writing
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