These Words Are Not Mine

My words have escaped my touch;

my thoughts cannot find home.

 

These tears smell of fearful foreign,

this skin burns and bleeds,

while my blood runs slowly,

and lightly,

and my eyes are explosions,

and stardust,

just as irregular as my heartbeat.

 

Still stays my spine,

but these words are not mine.

The Golden Boys of Athens

The Golden Boys of Athens

Little Stories from Eindhoven in Hopes of Restoring Your Faith in Humanity

Little Stories from Eindhoven in Hopes of Restoring Your Faith in Humanity