I am still alive,
lights still shine from my eyes,
glimmers of hope glint in my smile,
though lately I've been tired, bone-dead and tongue-tied
something about the winter but
that's just an an excuse
that doesn't hold water 'cause
last time it was something about the autumn,
but the cold freezes my jaw
and seeps into every fibre
and the cold is my all too concrete metaphor
for being
lights still shine from my eyes,
glimmers of hope glint in my smile,
though lately I've been tired, bone-dead and tongue-tied
something about the winter but
that's just an an excuse
that doesn't hold water 'cause
last time it was something about the autumn,
but the cold freezes my jaw
and seeps into every fibre
and the cold is my all too concrete metaphor
for being
this
lonely.
lonely.
(This is an incredibly late testament to my state of being alive. Katimavik is crazy busy. Comments are always appreciated. All my love fellow heart-raped writers! I miss you.)
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