things start splitting at the seams now                                                              

things start splitting at the seams now

anything to make you smile

in my mind

you are

the ever-present love that remains like a ghost

I hold this book, looking, questioning, wondering

I believe

functional things,

but slow guitar sounds

remind me

I’m tumbling down

tumbling down

poise

only to hold me together

only to act like I can.

control, ooh, the thing I know best.

do I really know me at all?

what suppression leaves me with

empty, quietness in tones I’ve never heard

not loud enough to wear hand-knitted perfection.

it’s a good thing your will exists...

stubbornness cowers now

thank god, it does.