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By RebeccaBeth_88 Date: 2009 Nov 30 Comment on this Work [[2009.11.30.23.23.21683]] |
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My fingertips brush your walls of decaying stone. Ivy lingers and moves. My head rests against a hard heart beating, beating... You hear my thoughts. You hear my darkness. I hate her when she yells at me. I curse them when they don't look at me. I lust after him--regardless of the gold on his finger. I like it when they hit me. My head rests against a cold, stone heart beating, beating.. There's nowhere else I feel free. What a foundation you are! I find my release in the what remains of a relic... They call you Jericho. It's not hard to climb to your top, Or rest on your ground. Your rough soaks my tears, And etches every line of my story Into each carefully laid stone. I am found at Jericho. Here, I have peace. Words bleed from my lips, Curses and slurs from the cracks and crevaces Of a cave not fully explored inside of me. Pain resides there. Past dwells and festers at it's core. Here lies...my ugly. But you take it all and judge me not. You love me. My fingernails scrape a cold and hard that is alive, In Jericho. But what happens when the trumpets sound? Will you fall? Will you leave me to the outside world? Will you no longer listen? Take me with you, Jericho, so that I too may become Part of the ground, Cold and hard, A crumbled foundation, a relic... And ears to a wandering soul. I am found at Jericho. Here, I have peace. |