Longing for a stupid touch, a little bit of a wicked rush.
Beating myself for missing the chance, to walk with him and hold his hand...
Running from darkness and running to nothing
Not darkness, not light, something less than both
A little, cold place within the confines of my self
Where I can't feel much and I can't think of his touch
I wish that he could find me here,
No,
I wish someone
Anyone
Could find me here
And bring me out of Asphodel and return me to
The world of the living,
The world I can't belong to.
No comments:
Post a Comment