Poetry

You

November 21, 2008

There are two walls in me
one, I’ve built with my hands
the other with my heart.

One wall leaves me blind,
the other, scarred,
because I can’t seem to move right
when we dance the way we do
and when your eyes catch mine
my dear, I can barely move.

So I make oceans out of tear drops
and shooting stars from the words we hold,
but I swear, I’ll never stop
no matter what it takes to know

you

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