And today I’m
as light as
the dust left
behind by a
moths delicate wings
no impression just
a dry mist
of a once
soft quiet landing
nary a sound
the same as
those of angels
Category: Creativity
Holes
I no longer
miss or long
for some things
lost are gone
the place that
they held filled
forever by someone
or anything else
we do that
you know find
fill or cover
lest we forget
and fall again
back into the
very hole of
our own making
crawling out once
is bad enough
for most people
it is me
Address
And as much
as I hate
to admit this
I’m too hurt
to ever try
feeling love again
I don’t blame
love I could
never blame love
it’s the messenger
who delivers it
I’m never the
right address I’m
the wrong recipient
Lines
The lines
that frame
the face
are nothing
more than
trails marked
through the
very jungles
of life
showing that
one has
indeed lived
and been
there before
IsIsn’tToo
Someone asked
what’s love
after thinking
I replied
what isn’t
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 