Here we are again, Yellow Bird.
I'm sitting here, unwilling to move. My eyes are tightly shut. Because if I open You might make me want to.
You're waiting there. Patient. Kind. Beckoning.
No, I want to be in the world. I want to be of it. It's easier, You know.
You do.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Leave me a peice of your heart's ponderings: