Bending backwards
So far I cracked straight through my spine
I can feel the splinters
How is life spent better this way?
Broken backs, and eggshells?
A bit weary in my spirit
A bit broken in my heart
A silent stream of conversation
Becomes a work of art
And as I sit here mesmorized
By the words I fail to hear
I know deep down somewhere
There is something worth
(
Read more... )