Forgive my moves, they were acquired by a crime.
Not once nor thrice, but multiple times.
Over 20, no not my age, but the stabs taken at me, rendering me a different page.
My mind, now wrapped like a jar sealed tight, but my legs flailed wide, like the summer skies night.
A whimper and gasp, replaced my joyful tone.
Sending idea bubbles to me, question mark, what is a moan?
Eyes wet like the oceans tide.
From now on my emotions will have to hide—and seek, not in the sand’s treasure buried deep,
but dissolved neatly, under the shag that nestles your feet.
The city’s not awake, not yet it still slumbers.
My mind drifts back days,
changed as I wonder.
Would it all come back like that reoccurring dream?
Where the sun-shined on my face and mmm the air was so clean.
Heard others cheerfully playing somewhere near…
View original post 127 more words