Chiaroscuro, Master of Youth

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

It's strange to hear

The stunted words,
the hesitant phrasing.

the peaks of a glacier
that melt into a pool of icy regret.


It seeps into the soles of your feet,
sticky soles, rooting you into viscous debates, (or conversation?)

What is it anymore?
Why is it anything?

I wish you would stop talking.
Posted by Jade at 10:07 PM
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to XShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest

No comments:

Post a Comment

Newer Post Older Post Home
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

About Me

Jade
View my complete profile

timemachine

  • ►  2020 (3)
    • ►  October (2)
    • ►  July (1)
  • ►  2019 (13)
    • ►  September (3)
    • ►  August (6)
    • ►  July (1)
    • ►  June (1)
    • ►  May (2)
  • ►  2018 (15)
    • ►  March (7)
    • ►  February (3)
    • ►  January (5)
  • ►  2017 (1)
    • ►  June (1)
  • ►  2016 (9)
    • ►  June (5)
    • ►  May (1)
    • ►  April (2)
    • ►  January (1)
  • ▼  2015 (42)
    • ►  November (2)
    • ▼  September (2)
      • the heart is a traitor to the rest of the self
      • It's strange to hear The stunted words, the hesit...
    • ►  May (3)
    • ►  April (6)
    • ►  March (7)
    • ►  February (10)
    • ►  January (12)
  • ►  2014 (107)
    • ►  December (8)
    • ►  September (1)
    • ►  August (6)
    • ►  July (5)
    • ►  June (10)
    • ►  May (4)
    • ►  April (15)
    • ►  March (20)
    • ►  February (12)
    • ►  January (26)
  • ►  2013 (46)
    • ►  December (39)
    • ►  November (5)
    • ►  April (2)
Simple theme. Powered by Blogger.