Eyes of the beholder

by on January 25, 2016 :: 0 comments

You look at me and over me, deep down in my soul you’ll never reach, for if you do you’ll freeze instantly, deep down I’m cold inside and you’re outside looking, not at the straining red blood veins in my eyes squeezing my cortices, nerves react; disgruntled reflex, my pupils were blinded as they are weakflesh, sight I could not make see to be free of a detachable heart murmur. You will never feel the real pain until tomorrow but that day it’s just sorrow that runs through the veins as you come home to find you really have no friendship only the prehensile-hold of I done that smile.

editors note:

To behold is not to be held unless you get beyond that smile. – mh clay

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