Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Your Smoke, My Mirrors.

You're holding me back
without saying a word,
grabbing my collar
with no sound to be heard.
I feel your footsteps
as they follow mine.
You're growing closer
as seconds unwind.
I tried to leave you
in the months past,
but I can't shake you.
My mind holds fast.
Cigarettes? Whiskey?
What will it take?
My  soul is desperate 
for some time away.
I don't want to need you.
You're poison. Disease.
I don't want to care,
but to be set free.
Shadows and smoke,
they dance in my hall.
Not sure which is you,
so I run from them all.
To turn back time,
I'd give all of me.
To discover the truth,
I'd cheat and deceive.
Yet in the morning,
I know logic will reign.
'Tis better to lose
than cause me more pain.


Christina Sawyer (c) 2012 .

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