11112(if what was lost has now been found consider me resurrectedbut -some times,some things,are better left untouched)
resurfaced (sapphire suns)the thing is,if it had been different,through cigarette-thin lips would've come my name, wrapped in the scent of amber gin.on wooden floors we'd be lined in lightagain, laying so close. not touching.if it was a cry for help,nobody was really listening, were they, noteven your father, and so you left,left in more ways than one, and i only heard youwhen it didn't matter anymore.the thing is,you've been gone from my mind and heartfor years now, i've lost count.days have been more fleeting than my own inhales, my own exhales, or at least it would seem.the thing is, z,time passes and changes.my stars were your
11 3i've been sitting underthe same tree for days and nowthe leaves are leaving and nowthe bark is peeling andis this what they talk aboutwhen the sparks all flickerout?i've been stoned enoughtimes to be called a martyr andmy mind's been getting hazylatelyhow do they expect me to answerall these prayers?i'm not a saint, i've just gotno grasp on sin.
9.7i am but a weary passengerwondering whomight be missing me - nobodycan tell whether this is just a famineor an infestation,it's strange how that works - here,maybe you are lying beside meor above mebut i am suffocating - love'snot one of those things that you can forget easily, not quite like - me.
Sta.sh
