|
Post by strangeclouds on Mar 9, 2005 18:02:27 GMT -5
When you reached for me, You saw your hands stop Before touching the glass- But to me- They traveled Into And among- The depths Of myself- Leaving imprints Of immediate familiarity- And faster Diminishing clarity... And sometimes When you breathe me in I can’t help but wonder How you live Off my essence When I hide It’s stench of decay With the smell Of perfume. But then- I realize, That it is only a matter of time Before you start to sink... And then you will look to me To inhale some life But you will find- That it is myself, In which You- Are drowning.
|
|
|
Post by Aaron Graf on Apr 11, 2005 3:34:09 GMT -5
Tamela you always have a way with words, took me a few times to kinda get it but I actually understand it now, this is a great piece you did. I'm doing the poems of Conscience letter this week, actually gonna restart on doing thsoe things again for myself. IT's goin' in it by the way.
|
|
|
Post by strangeclouds on Apr 11, 2005 13:21:55 GMT -5
hey thanks id really like it if you put make a wish in, i think its in the other section.
|
|