I’m stitching my soul together from the latest blow
We try to share needles, but we know
- it’ s never going to work
I feel your pain
And it’s hard to gain your affection
When you have no more to spare
This is my life.
A mix of things all too pathetic
all too meager
to win just, fanciful things as awards
Merely extravagant enough to satisfy,
to crave a late night poetry slam
and to kiss black dotted music sheets goodnight
(Maybe even you)
You know nothing of my past
And I’ll admit I know nothing of yours
But the past is who I am
Fleeting images – some days impressed more
than others
So fading, so haunting,
All regret and remorse
Braving elements on my soul’s open wounds
…which I’m sewing closed –
hoping that there’s some spare thread to sew me to you
