Tales Untold
This ache is like a lost child whining for love,
and wanting freedom from the stifling pain--
at the same time.
When I sleep, my fist, bending involuntarily at the wrist
crushes my chest as if I could reach in and disintegrate
all the broken parts.
Meanwhile, ferry tales untold remain on the dock
waiting on the non-arrival of a white night.
and wanting freedom from the stifling pain--
at the same time.
When I sleep, my fist, bending involuntarily at the wrist
crushes my chest as if I could reach in and disintegrate
all the broken parts.
Meanwhile, ferry tales untold remain on the dock
waiting on the non-arrival of a white night.
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