The air becomes so thick
But which one of us is coughing
Is this the seismic shift you wanted
Or are you poisoning yourself
If you aren't careful your words might
impale themselves on my heart
YOU ARE READING
Endlessly Falling
PoetryI have a slight problem. It is banal. Inconsiderable. Inconsequential. Insipid, vain, and trivial. Some might even some vapid or nugatory. So frivolous. But, to me it is kind of a biggie. Here's the deal. I have a problem with falling in love... re...
