Plentiful in metaphors
I drag myself into your sleep
unable to disguise my naked heart
.
A face in the crowd turns around
and watches itself go
.
.
Time moves on
but I don’t
.
.
.
(I stop becoming)
Plentiful in metaphors
I drag myself into your sleep
unable to disguise my naked heart
.
A face in the crowd turns around
and watches itself go
.
.
Time moves on
but I don’t
.
.
.
(I stop becoming)