Friday, July 30, 2010

Painfully Painted Strangers

Painfully painted strangers
with hollow laughs 
and guttural grinding of bones
that slake the eternal 
thirst for touch

It hurts
this razor burn
on a fading heart
certain of tears
that fall
on yesterday's hope.

I cannot turn away
from me
and need
that galls my mind
with shame
for a weak soul.

I am lost
without anchor
or rudder 
to push 
towards solid ground.

All I can do
is hope
that will holds
perhaps one day 
over craving
eyes, hands, soul


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