Butch Femme · Heart

But It Is Unwritten


It’s the ins and outs like a climbing vine,

like a collar around your neck, too tight,

it’s a trick played in your eyes,

when it lives again just to die,

It’s setting the sky on fire like the dawn,

forgetting the clouds from the day before,

remembering the way when you’ve been gone too long,

like gathering the crumbs you dropped from the door,

It’s a hopelessness in the moment of hope,

like air leaking from your lungs, you try to breathe,

and then the time comes when you know how to cope,

the candle is lit and the strongest is weak,

It’s like that book, you write it out but it is unwritten,

like a fence around that inhibition,

you see it all but you’ll never read what is hidden,

you speak knowing that you should be the one to listen, intuition,

It’s like the tangle of the line under the rocks,

shifting your feet to set it free, but now you’re caught,

holding onto the end when you hold onto those long locks,

slipping down under those feelings that you fought…



Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s