0.4mm Whispers
Tomorrow, I
shut the curtains and open my soul
I tear the
veil into what’s stood between me and where I buried my goals
My bed,
spilled black ink on my canvass-turned-sheets
Black coffee and dark chocolate at midnight do not dim my dreams
0.4mm
whispers
Blueprints
of my heart
I am not
afraid of the dark
For it reads
letters penned between white margins
I do not
wear my pain
Though my
smile is a scar
I do not
drink the rain
Though I’ve
rowed on these tears to get thus far
I can’t shut
you up
You can’t
hear me break
Somebody,
ring life’s bell and give me a break
Before I
give up
If I could choose a pair of thought-shoes I'd wear yours reverently.
ReplyDeleteIf fear were a coat like Joseph's, I'd gladly leave it in Potiphar's wife's hands.
Just for a moment, if I could but wear your Write-hand as a glove, to peel away like old paint this mourn-ment...make it a movement! For a second, to inhale the air scented by those 0.4mm whispers...
Take my hand in yours, lend me your courage, show me how to win wars. I keep losing my voice...will my pen see the light of day? Dancing to the tune of May and frozen in the snow of Nay...if wishes were horses!
If I could choose a pair of thought-shoes...I'd put on socks made of glue, and walk a milliom miles in your shoes.
Sir, you Wrote Write.
#HandMate...in this piece, I'm just in pieces. (eish).
Though my reply tarried, I have carried in my being the weight of your breath. We breathe. We link. We ink. Hand-maiden, I am made because you are. I've been limping; without you by the margins, I write amiss. I miss you.
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