Author: fran

there is a forest near my shed and after i get out of bed i wander trough the lichen pines and wonder when it will be mine the trees don’t speak the birds don’t either the stars shine like they know it all but there’re no clues to find out here the winds are howling…

a storm is raging inside and out i can’t see my trail or find a way out but you see a path through the storm and the rain you can’t take it for me you’ll show me the way the dots on your back are my map to the stars connecting the signs i see…

so i have left i hurt you with that but it’s something i had to do been here before don’t want these circles no more round and round this is where they end it’s like a new pair of eyes pierced through all my denies it’s bad and it always has been it’s like i’ve…

those are the perks of being numb you don’t hear the pounding drum you don’t see red flags waving steady numb ones never have to be ready you don’t feel the endless loss of another boundary crossed you don’t taste bitter defeat soothingly lulling yourself to sleep I did not even smell the mire when…