Reduced to harmlessness without bordering teeth.
Beyond the maw lies the delicately shrouded.
I’m trying to be more than what appears,
but the defenses that lose to the wake have no touch with words.
Brought down to bruised knees in repeating notes.
The scenery is unchanged in the accustomed noise of breakdown.
I’m wanting to be more than a contact list afterthought,
but your lips and your eyes had an agreement with disagreement.
Staring in space filled with small nothings,
the color diluted to blend into the markers of yesterday’s happiness.
I’m striving to see the side of the optimist,
but I’ve been wed to a yesterday several years in the past.
( ❤ Mitch)
The Works of Mitch Worden 