love is not a stomach to be filled when you are hungry
love is not a stomach to be filled when you are hungry
love is not a stomach to be filled when you are hungry
My mouth has been a butcher shop
Salting meat for later days
Instead of speaking
These hands have been a waiting room
Holding my best intentions.
Hands on clocks chasing nerves.
Feet stuck on tracks- stalling.
My teeth like railroad ties
Tracing trains of thought back to where home once was.
You turn away from me
Like pages.