you are a river gushing
stronger and stronger but making as little sounds as possible
like a river running through splinters and stones
carrying failures on your shoulders
the blue
the bruise
the silence
it's all so familiar
I suppose you're a rose
pressing your red hands on the sheer glass turning
it to white and all of the proper colors at the wrong time
comparison killed you like harsh winds unceasing
your feet are at the shadows when you were set apart
reality is wild at the feet of the silhouette
you have kindness and enough sweet jars of tasteless water
will you go?
you've forgotten how it sounds like
what does it mean to sense the winds of change?
what does it feel like to not be limited with
the same ones and zeroes?
remember it's painful because it's worth it, so go for it
*
