Posted in stream of consciousness

Delicate

Delicate words rest between us on the tips of heavy sighs. Elaborate silences decorate our  walls. In place of pictures we hold frames of dust laden time.

It’s a line to cross but something bars us back. Like a horror house of mirrors, we’re stuck with only our reflections.

Though in crowds I’ve found ways to fall out of time. In those places, dozens of blank stammering faces, I’ve never felt more alone.

Author:

Letters from inside my head

10 thoughts on “Delicate

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