"the threads that once kept us together
have been pulled apart
now, everything is a blur, like the view out of a window of a
car speeding up
the colors you see are out of your reach, the moment your
fingertips dance wildly across your lap,
it has already made it's way to the horizon
wouldn't it feel wonderful if the colors were just there, waiting to be painted on the empty medium of our unfilled souls?
does what we desperately need have to be so far from us?
we need it's life, it's splendor within us
it pains me how these colors are always beyond ourselves, for it reminds me how far
the light is from us."
-i'm already so far gone, does what i need always have to be out of reach
[a/n] updated on September 5, 2014 at 5:53 PM
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Catharsis
Poetryca·thar·sis [kuh-thahr-sis] noun, plural ca·thar·ses [kuh-thahr-seez] 1. the purging of the emotions or relieving of emotional tensions, especially through certain kinds of art, as tragedy or music. Poetry #62 / Random #130 © Copyrighted, All...
