Thursday, May 26, 2016

Old skin, lost words

Old skin, you have feasted 
on silence for long. The words
you don't have are your scars. 
When will you be whole again? 
When will your creases fill? 
For long you have listened
and forgotten your voice. In 
the nights of agony only a 
whimper escapes your tongue
and long before it falls into 
discerning ears it dies in the 
chaos of understanding. There
is always a story you never
live to tell. But its your version
that goes missing. 

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