and I have words, plenty but not enough…or not words, right.
So, I’m hunkering now in supposed safe haven, watching my own back
cause who else will?
Split rhymes with spit, which is sort of how the word sounds, wrong
somehow. Split heart, split tongue, split home, lickety split
More than a crack – a chasm, cataclysmic. But not really, right?
Happens all the time.
So you think
there’d be words….and I suppose there are, but insufficient to touch
They’re words you could eat.
The crash, the smash, the wrack up of the
tumble, of the final word which says, too
robotically, there’s been a
failure…. in the system, in the program, in the house.
So there you have it, get a new one. These things happen,
folks. Chisel out the cleaving, then the leaving. Clinging like ivy to the
tearing asunder. It makes no sense. But no one said it
A bond more than bruised-broken, there’s no mending. The pierce of that
edge we can’t escape, the point of that no return. It’s there we
stand, surveying options, knowing now they’re
And yet, the end is only a term for this one thing. There’s a beginning on
some verge so maybe it’s best to just not draw this out
somehow. I haven’t been beat and you didn’t lose, we’ll
call it a tie.
Yeah, there’s a glow somewhere on the other side of this. Maybe that’s
Crumple the papers but me, I’m
“You have to hate someone to hurt them with lies. Insincere talk brings nothing but ruin.”-Proverbs 26:28 GNT