All That Is This

In the darkness of mistaken hurt, simplicity made too deep, the wounds of conversation lie, my heart, too hurt, to speak.

Rash thoughts, no, quiet. Still. Head to pillow, wait, feet to floor, eyes see through walls to hidden tears, I plead with doubt; no more. No more!

Loved. Loved. Echoes of forgiveness lost in somehow time, silence too loud, silence too… Lost in triviality, productive hands will work against the sound of distant sighs.

Away from comfort for fear of loss, more distance will prolong, will mask. Redeem. Time, my friend, my pleasant friend, you will draw near what goes far. I pray. Pray. To be freed. From all that is this.