you shake me from
my sleep. begging
me to wake, to follow.
If you look close
enough you might
realize subconsciousness
has been stitched
into my skin
It is more apart
of me than my
own
voice.
my words are tinted by this endless aching
and when left
to my own devices
I will sink back.
It's crying has
made me numb to
other voices.
yet
you,
of all people
have caught me.
oh a master of silence
and brokenness.
can't you fix the bent reeds worn down by time
xx
