This silence is bleeding,
Spilling to an octave
much higher than this place.
Would you kill it,
spitting shards into this wound?
I need some solace
when the day dies down.
My eyes glued shut
and my wishes granted;
My arms full.
If all fails,
The world shall turn numb,
make me promises, so I beg.
I have the ability
to believe what can't be seen |