damaged goods aisle three

I attempt to plug in holes with written words but today I am void of words for there are no words to bandage the gaping wound that I have caused. I need to un-type, undo the word, un-think the thinking thought, roll the sharp objects that flayed you while you were unaware back into my satchel.

To not have your hand to hold in this world is almost too much for me to conceive. I am spinning out of control because I cannot find my center. I cannot find you and I need you to tell me that everything will be alright. Grab my hand colored girl and skip down the path with me.

To not touch your skin, to not hear your voice or feed upon your words again is cruel.
To myself I have administered the final blow.

Comments

Don said…
Nice post.

You have a way of grabbing the reader.

I like that.
8:55 PM
All-Mi-T [Thought Crime] Rawdawgbuffalo said…
u write well, hope u dont mind the drive by, at home on a sat nite, i hope u understand
12:28 AM
Anonymous said…
Stay strong, sista!
5:23 PM
All-Mi-T [Thought Crime] Rawdawgbuffalo said…
intoxication do tell more, i may be amenable to such a beverage email me if u like, and i will add u to my blog roll to chk on u, u can do the same if u like, and outside of law what are u reading now
11:02 AM
Anonymous said…
I can never replace what has been lost, but my hand will always be extended for you to grab hold.
10:59 PM
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