When drinking martini’s isn’t enough
And ripping through joints of weed is popcorn
And he’s still not looking at you
It’s not about resurrections
You feed to lose yourself
When it’s not enough
Silence without a tongue
They never get it
With the voice of real in the forefront of your mind
I want you
Never leaves your mouth
When it’s not cool at all
And walk home
The voices remain
At the forefront of my mind
It doesn’t matter
Who it is or where it comes from
It matters when it talks.
And tonight it’s…
I walk down the street
And my feet hurt
I bend over and fix the strap of my shoe.
And the band-aid is crushed beneath the strap.
I stride through the discomfort.
Is this my crucifixion?
I suppose it saves lives.
Woman adjusting her shoe strap image available from Shutterstock.
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Last reviewed: 9 Nov 2013