Friday, July 30, 2010

Painfully Painted Strangers

Painfully painted strangers
dance
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.

lost;
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


LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails