Monday, February 6, 2017

Walk through the fire

Is there some way through
without walking through the fire 
without smoke in my lungs 
And lies on my tongue 
And the fragments of my singed thoughts scattered around me 
Like leaves torn out of the journals 
you brought me 
when you told me I should write again

How can I be who I am 
when I am a tornado 
I can't keep hidden the secrets I hold 
I cannot be anyone 
But lights and sirens and cold cold nights that take your breath away. 

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