Flash.

A presence treading with me through the course of time;

a phantom keeping steady hold to this hand of mine;

has it always been with me, here at my side?

has it always protected and watched my blind-side?

why do the stars seem to bleed from my eyes?

like memories of leafy trees and autumn skies?

while the blood boils hotly and I see flashes of white,

my skin’s sensitivity has alerts set on high,

like static electricity reminding me to look alive,

has it always been with me, right here the whole time?

 

 

 

Go ahead...say somethin'!

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s