Speak written by Theresa C. Newbill
...and what if no one spoke of secrets carriedin hearts, or of fools that no longer whisperwords about the night's claim to moments withinthe dignity of simple truth.
If there are wicked things to come from voice,then let voice be my omen; let it visit afterdark, intent on being shattered piecesof broken glass,
blinding light into a kaleidoscope of pain. Iprefer the honesty that comes from listening,when I tremble with rain and life disappearsinside of this,
and I am left sitting alone with thoughtsof you, where a crazy grin and green martinissing about the loss of love, until words fallaway, and every bit of color has gone.
No comments:
Post a Comment