Theoretically just poetry
I'm gonna faint in reality
Heart too much to handle it
Mind too faint to picture it
Storm in July, I wasn't ran by
Can I run some more or stop now
Should I look around and wish I was blind
And this silence is one way to drown
The blood of my pain on your hands
The weight of my fate on my back
Far away to hold my hand
It doesn't matter if I want to
It doesn't work that way.
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Comments1
there is promise in our disquiet
allows us to ponder, chaos' whisper
and there is, chance
in our dispirited, frame of mind
for in lethargy's stillness
we may be granted, some awareness
we need only, separate
our two burdens, keep one
to grow stronger beneath
and allow ourselves to heal from the other
as soon, as we can:
'The blood of my pain on your hands
The weight of my fate on my back'..
(forgive me
I couldn't help but try and poetically
respond, to your somewhat abstract
yet, immeasurably relatable poem..
what a great read!
thanks for sharing, dear poet)
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