In progress:
Rather
Rather
Empty my chest cavity than open up,
Rather
Cut wrists – fan blades on low, so slow,
So stop-start – than reach out-connect.
Rather
Leave this in silence: I have plenty to say, I just ...
Can't think in time to your rhythm, syncopated
Against the grain, words cut bare,
I always walk home in silence.
I always climbed trees to get off the earth,
Rather
Like a bird with clipped wings.
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