Everything at once;
that is what I have become.
Object and movement; feeling
and emptiness. I bend with words
and break in silence. I see black at
the same time I sense existence.
In one word [golden, charmed, decaying]
I stop and remain for days, at the same
instance I move forward with no regard for
eloquence. My words, spoken and
spelled out, are adolescent. My
thoughts are overgrown. My
longings outweighed by responsibility.
If I had something to run to, I might.
A word I can hold in my hand.
A hand I can hold in my palm.
I heart I can grow into.
Your heart that will bolster.
Your hand that will brace me.