segunda-feira, 1 de dezembro de 2014

The thing behind your eyes

The noisy quiet from behind your eyes
That knows when to burp and knows when to cry
The ghost that hones itself to separate
Not invited in like some dinner guest

An empty thing stands over it
puts it's weight on it and suffocates it
Pulls it and pushes it dislodging it from the fabric of your being
yet anger and sadness send it back a yowling dog

And the noisy quiet, boasts dominion
The pain and protest rings like a siren
I awaken as if submerged in bathwater
hunting the imposter in your watery eyes

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