There are some things you cannot write about
Some hurts that are hard to tell
There are words that strike you deep
Sometimes writing doesn't help.
I have too many moments
that I couldn't write about,
Words make things real,
And I'd rather stay in doubt.
I'm a coward, yes. I know.
I know this so very well,
I know how to run and stay away from that brand of hell.
But I also know that running is not solving anything,
I'm running round in circles,
In my feet the melody rings.
You cannot escape,
Your feet cannot outrun,
Your lungs will burst without its air before your fleeing is done.
The tables have turned in this way,
They used to be my friend,
But now I find that in the quiet,
They are chasing me instead.
SK
