Those songs you whisper to yourself, thinking no one can hear, your lullaby, dear. The rhythm of your hands against the seams, stuck in a dream of fruitless conversation, and mute indignation, and I am here. The coil of nightfall, a lustre that fades, but the dance is engaging, enraging your heart into tears.  You want to run in the rain and scream at the sky, wash out the stains, believe in desire. There is no shade for the burning heart: you learn this in your solitude, the crowded colors, the faith renewed. Your lullaby is soft, but I’ve oft heard it; I am here.

16 thoughts on “Lullaby

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your 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