leavin my bros house a few nights ago the beginnings of this struck me. i typed into my phone and developed more just now.
this is what i got so far but i dont feel its done yet.
potential title: no one knows im gone...
we are the curse of our fathers.
we are the memories of what we once lived.
we are the remainders of their division.
pieces left of places we've been and haven't seen.
i see your fragments in my head to piece together later
when my eyes close and the wholes open wide.
i see u far away.
these beginning rituals of elementary introductions when we first meet.
second glances become the second chances of the lives we have lived out in my head
awkward deportment of our stance as the lids are caught agape for the first time
sweaty demeanor we learned from the preparatory
keeps you at my distance so as to derive your intention.
this sick math stays my hand
a restraint from your touch
hold me close. hold me close.
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