Jun
29th
Wed
29th
just like we
her smile grows older
brave eyes wrinkled
deep with adoration
we are all just growing old
she never speaks about leaving
but sometimes i imagine death to be
a pitch black room
a silence
we sit alone
impermanently
i know its selfish but
sometimes i hope to go first
to find a release from this
deceptive flow
our unknown
unknowing
our fiction
we lie
in the meantime
i’ll believe in your smile
but all the kids laughing and
screaming outside make me
homesick
