Wednesday


dead january

Why do the old bones
Always come back to hurt you?
Why can’t they stay in their
Own space?

Why do they want to mend
Things that they broke-
Their own bones...
I was there before and you left

Me to die. Alone with
One eye. But now seven
Winters have passed and
You come knocking
On my door

You are trying to plant seeds
In that dead Torr.
Well this Torr is dead too.

I can’t tell you the truth,

It’s hidden under lies and cobwebs-
Hidden under surface love and
Hopeless everything...

Alone with brittle mistakes
And love that didn’t lie

Where is our
Time going?
Moving forward-

Not back.

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