Its coming

Ms. Wes C.addleMs. Wes C.addle Posts: 2,559
edited April 2010 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
closing in as each moment passes
every perfectly printed letter
forms words that cut so deep
but its only emptiness
its us that let the letters kill
can we not form some sort of barrier

what started as a comedy
has transformed into a after-school special
the firmness that I once stood
I have now found myself in quicksand
ripping nails and blistering tips
can't stay above the surface

its been a dry spring
all of the tears have been evaporated
by the warmth of the sun
but no matter how far I run
the darkness continues to squeeze tight

Is this what its like to not feel
to not care
to supress everything that I want to say
I have held back too much that now
I can't even form a thought
an emotion
a single kind word
the bitterness flows like the lava
through the gates of death
Post edited by Unknown User on

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