August 13, 2013

Everyday Writing

There are only so many times
You can scream at walls
Knock on them with dreamy eyes
Before you figure out
They won't sing you songs
Nor would they walk along
Or hold you when you hurt your knee.
Walls are static things
You just saw them move
Like a mirage in a desert
Your longings breathing 
into them, the illusion of life

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© Dryad's Peak
Maira Gall