Through, in, over
February 22, 2006
Posted in Poetry |
How deep can the division be.
Between.
night and day
real and dream
written and said
thought and meant
How long can I keep the walls from closing in.
On me.
How long before your ghosts wake me.
Wake me.
This is stop and go at it’s most cruel state.
Moving on and leaving so much behind.
Staying and waiting and hoping.
The divison, the duality.
So close, the wall paper thin.
As I lay my face on it.
I feel the warmth of yours on the other side.
Unmovable. Unfillable. Uncrossable.
The wall. The hole. The divide.
Leave a Reply
DAMN!
Give it time.
beautiful.
“This is stop and go at it’s most cruel state.”
Ah, what a familiar feeling. Gorgeous post.:)
jeliel, stephaine, aleida: Thank you
moonwart: trying…