Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Quiet to Questions
My hands are small but they’re stretched wide
Like a spider’s net and
They’re trembling like tissue paper
So I don’t notice your stares
No, you can’t know what’s wrong with me
It would take years to explain and honestly
I feel way too old
To compromise.
I could use the word atrophy
But that’s such a vague word
For such an old friend.
For now, why [...]
