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In this place: where truth be not told for fear of loosing the lies that have come to be our bedfellows.
You are the victim of my fallacy and i, my conscience.
But through the veil, i find a way home.
Home to my brick conjugation of safety.
Home. To where i can approach you without a scald.
I may pass again, a stricken stranger on your path of citizenship.
Leave a sign so i find it quick enough to stretch my hand.
Will you take it? Or will you be again a a man of honor? and draw pins through these emptied veins?
i really, really, reallllyyy love this poem sooo much. I cant read it enough times! whoever drove you to this height of creativity,(no matter what he is to you now) deserves your gratitude for the asset he turned out to be after all ;-)
ReplyDeletesure hun! i am glad you like it. because it does tug at my best self too. :)
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