an incessant beat

thumping

a boy and his drum

the numbers add up

burning a hole to the bone

buried under

lifes clutter

knowingly not felt

the redness gone

my only tattoo reveals itself

during a pause to think

hating this place

even for a blink

discarded

stolen

lost

solitary

missing a piece

unconscious choice

to never find

or formally forgive

don't want to learn

new ways of

avoiding

the ghost of gilbert

what to make of it all

nothing

until st johns calls

Comments

Ruth Newell May 31, 2012 @ 1:02 p.m.

"Don't want to learn new ways of avoiding"--I really like that!

0

richzombie June 2, 2012 @ 11:26 a.m.

thanks - just thought - might be good to have that drum thumping while its read -

0

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