Old Friends

Licking wounds
Bathed in the priceless
Chasm of neosporin
Disguised as desperation
Cry two three stop
Put it back just one more time
One more time can’t hurt
One turns to five to ten
To twenty, twenty turns to one
And laughs like old friends
We aren’t so far apart
Cut from the same blade
Of grass
Whispering as it feeds us
Just one more time
Cry and lick the wound you’re still here
And now you feel something
Alive

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s