Tags
breath, fate, fearless, gravel roads, life, living, love, old maps, passion, restless, spirit, strength, understanding, wandering, words to write themselves
and here I am
in a place I never thought
when the nights were only started
and the sky – a younger
dark
caught between
and wrapped around
a gnawing in my soul –
a silence born
of negligence –
coffee growing cold
and there you are
wasted as a morning after beer
staring out at lessons
never come –
who am I
to change the sheets
who am I to smile
when all you keep is leaving –
forgotten how
to run
. . .
tornadoday 
The truth of a poem is in the bones – and you can see the nothing but the bones here,
Thanks, Seb………I like that! Maybe my next literary effort should be titled ‘Nothing but Bones’. 🙂 Thank you, dear sweet man. ~ Love, Bobbie
“a gnawing in my soul” ….., There are days…., and there are days. But life goes on as it will. 🙂
Paul
yes, it does……….knowing that there will be days without the gnaw and others where ‘gnaw’ doesn’t quite seem to cover it 🙂 ~ Love to you, Me