I am not a
graceful person.
I am not a Sunday morning
or Friday sunset.
I am a Tuesday 2am,
I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks,
I am a broken window during
February.
My bones crack on a nightly
basis.
I fall from elegance with a dull thud,
and I apologize for my awkward sadness.
I sometimes
believe that I don’t
belong around people,
that
I belong
to all the leap days that
didnt happen.
The way the light and darkness mix
under my skin has become a
storm.
You don’t see the lightning,
but you hear the
echoes.
3 faves · 1 comments · Dec 23, 2012 10:15am
ReadTears* · 1 decade ago
wow! this is beautiful!
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