A Silhouette Trapped In Negative Space: a World Where Poets Never Lie and Words Never Die
I feel so far away, from that place I was today.
Standing in your shadow, only a thought away.
I tried to say everything to you, the day my lips never moved.
It was always times like these my words they never meant as thing,
At least not to you.
Reverberations of the frailty of life, Echoing like regret of all the wasted nights.
Why do I let my thoughts dwell in such darkness as these shadows?
Maybe for a greater purpose, in retrospect of all the gallows.
I'm not yet hanging from the ceiling, and still I see no ropes.
Is my voice yet equivalent to the likeness of a ghost?
Pumping through your speakers.
What do you miss the most?
Because i miss dancing between the walls of your embrace.
A feeling of warmth that could never be replaced.
Unless I find a day just dreaming I could face,
The darkness of despair I left drifting, in the thoughts of this dead space.
Why waste the words, when writing them is a race?
Thoughts of letters not existing, slowly catching up to pace.
The rhythm of a pencil, somethings cant be erased.
Unlike the vision of a fool, somethings are just displaced.
Light shining through my windows but never on my face.
Collections of broken truth , volumes of a wasted youth.
I'll take the color purple and watch the words turn it blue.
I'm done wasting time for stalling brings nothing new.
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