(no subject)

[seasonofsorrow]

Up the ladder and down my spine,
The old harlot on the corner said,
"They all come back to you in time."

("Well, where are you?")

Across the expanse and in my eyes,
The lost child on the porch implored,
"Say this isn't a world of lies."

("The lie I can't take.")

Feathered touches against my sin,
The forgotten friend gently sighed,
"I know you still think about him."

("I hate your memory.")

Slipping in composure and thoughts,
The wind seemed to teasingly sing,
"This is the worth of all you fought?"

("It was all for you.")