sleeping through the winter
wearing only the love you gave me
less than zero degrees and covered in emptiness
five inches, ten inches, twenty
slumbering (or drowning) beneath the
weight of you being far away
the listlessness of the heart
and its inability to travel
long distances without risk of
a drop in pressure, a sudden storm
laughing and not hearing it
muffled by a carpet that kills my toes
burns my hands, asks
me to get up, get up, get up.
and if i don't want to, what then
will i keep on sleeping
waiting for the winter to pass
only to wake up and find you
still gone, gone again?
No comments:
Post a Comment