Fingertips
...If it just missed you, because u let it pass by you or if it barley even hit you, why make it an issue.
Too many and plenty words thrown out so heavy, come out lucid and steady, but you know your not
ready. Why work so hard? Work your fingertips to the bone, when a lust filled rage just equals utterly
alone. Where did i go wrong? This angel whispered his song. Where was i right in the midst of a fight, crying from fright when his arms wrapped me tight. The cracks in the floor seem wider and wider once more. If i slipped in between them would i fight to stay with him. He answers YES screaming it, bellowing it from his chest, or would it be best to say give me time, peace, and rest. It fell hard, fast, lacking class, got my stash. I was solemn, alone, his heart was glass i threw stones. Slipped between my fingertips, I had him there....remembered his stare, so warm, non pretending, yet he is only intending to stand still and start mending whats unpure...status pending. A light so bright a rush of high made it die.
My angels still here, even though dispare left him bare. Will he stay or get bent, does the sun rise and then set?
This angel .. is listening...just waiting. He wants to stay sure i stay sane not start the process of fading.
Angel? Where is your halo? Did you leave it behind? Would it be hard to find?
He said my halo's not whole while my heart is not whole. My halo wont sit a top my head flying high, until your tears start to dry I cant stand watching you cry!
He really cares for me, waits patiently, not to onry or complacent. Understand why i suffer silent, vivaciously violent, more water works, contentment converts, fingertips frail, skin porous and pale.
Someone could slip through and iron clad grip. We replace old resentment with fables, now whos the one turning tables? We're thinking witty quick quips. REALLY? Cloudy faded jaded slipped through my own fingertips?
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