this grass it used to be green that house used to be yellow inside it was so beautiful I once had a key to the door I once walk across its floor it don't look the same no more it was a time long ago it held secrets in every corner of the room I slept with a chair up against the door didn't have the will to live wanted to die those walls inside knows how much I cried these years of mine and how many times I crossed my fingers to ward off danger my heart couldn't keep still my stomach hurt inside I was ill I got to go this sight makes me feel the fix is wearing off I know it's an illusion it's the trauma that's real
The Immortal Wize
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Foreclosure
CATEGORY
life
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COMMENTS
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mlowe5 says: I hear you. To foreclose on reality is in the awareness of it have been another's and not you own. Power write, Sir. Peace and Love, M. Lowe. |
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