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Your guiles are empty jabs, your heart a distant place.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Poetry/Angst - Chapters: 2 - Words: 115 - Published: 05-10-11 - id: 2913914
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Pins in my heart
or a tornado rush.
Agony at it's best.
Coiling fury in my gut
beats a desperate warning,
the fire alarm ringing
overwhelming and distracting.
I'm a toddler
endlessly repeating
the same steps
again, again.
Learning requires falling.
Some never master the art.
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