Thursday, October 9, 2014

When you won't speak to me.

How long have I swallowed this sour agony, rhythmic wantings of my heart.
Confusion slipping, silently sliding down a path that can't be foreseen.
Smiles forced from these wounds, wounds on top of scars…
Silent pain bleeds the most, pours upon ashes, dehydrated soul, it wonders.

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