Weird Place

This is a weird place to be Between nothing and oblivion

Bright summer sun hidden behind clouds

Words pouring from an empty mouth

Love sitting on a shelf

Believing in everything

While not letting yourself feel anything

Knowing that one tiny crack in the seal will let lose the rage of always losing

At love

At life

Or maybe winning

Sitting on a precipice of all things lovely

As hair curls dancing with the wind

Making love and promising to meet behind the cedar tree as long as the secrets are kept

Turning lighthouses off 

Not wanting to be found

Turning eyes to the ground

This is where those silent words come from as I throw them; forming a sound

Written in calligraphy 

Bleeding into chicken scratch 

I hope you see it


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