Since I do not love roses
the way you are supposed to
love and hate them, I know
I am slowly turning sane.
Since there will no houses
waiting for the ones who leave,
I know the best way for them
is to walk around once and be still.
Since there will still be noises
in the dark, in the recesses
of the heart that is often lost,
I know I cannot hope to be silent.
Friday, June 4, 2010
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