Sunday, 16 August 2015
If I Wrote Love Sonnets To Jesus I'd Be Famous By Now
The anger takes shape around the root of our tongues, and pushes its way out, on the breath of our lungs. We can take nothing with us, not even these words, which were once wrapped and twisted, yet now are unfurled. The life that we had, that we fought for and won, was being packed into boxes marked over & done. I held onto nothing, since nothing was left, my heart was still beating in a bared open chest.