When no one else is listening
Let us all make holes in our fortress of solitude,
so that we can hear each others think
Let us build bridges in between the spaces
so we can learn to speak in the code of silence
When all the voices are pleading to get in
Let us all run to the edges and seal all the openings
When the lies are ready to spill
Let us all build a wall
so we can shut out the pain
Let us cover our eyes with pride
so we never have to meet at the kitchen table
I bumped on this while scavenging the internet. This is rawness, poetry and depth, coalescing to create a piece of art that knows no boundaries. Kudos ink drops.
Resting on my bed, in the insomniac midnight air of the second day of September, I come to you blemished. Bearing sins of six generations of an oblivious Sodom. To sit down with you and disentangle the mystery of a man that holds both our hearts in his arms.
I have thought about you, about the possibility of you being there. And the possibility that the mumble he swallows in the jangle of our lovemaking is an attempt to warn me that there is another like me. Or the stains on his shirt are maps I can trace with my fingers to get to you. Or the keylock on the phone is the wall I need to jump over and find you, squatting, waiting for him. Or the fast pounding of his heart when he is kissing me insanely is a silent sentence that speaks of you.
No, do not…
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