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Small Breaths ~ Eileen Carney Hulme
No matter that my heart sinks,
sighs, with the weight of skeletons-
paths I forgot to follow
have slowly sealed
rooms go unrecognized
for fear of change
and I cry at the uncertainty of rainbows.
All the daydreams I stole,
refusing to give them back
are stored as silver dust
and each day is a small breath.
Posted on May 31, 2010 with 34 notes ()
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This is the place to which I go when words are few.
This is the place where I speak to my heart.
This is the place of hidden words.
