Holes In Souls -By J.Marie Dearwechter
Tattered and torn, battered and worn,
you slip me on like and old pair of shoes, and take a walk. You walk around inside my souls, you pay no attention to the puddles, splashing right through the tears I’ve cried. Oblivious to my heart soaking and ruining my suede skin. You jump over cracks in the sidewalk with silly superstition, but never once notice the cracking fabric of my being. I go wherever you take me, I am not following you, but moving with you, tip toeing in perfect time. I feel every step you take pounding in my brain, although ignored, falling apart, and in disrepair, I stay beneath you. It’s the nights I hate the most when I am removed from you. Without a second glance I am tossed aside, or left at the door. Hidden away under the bed, or in the closet. And its throughout these nights my loneliness overwhelms me. I dream of being something more to you, and realize this will never be, yet I will never leave. Only when you finally destroy me, and throw me away, will we part.
you slip me on like and old pair of shoes, and take a walk. You walk around inside my souls, you pay no attention to the puddles, splashing right through the tears I’ve cried. Oblivious to my heart soaking and ruining my suede skin. You jump over cracks in the sidewalk with silly superstition, but never once notice the cracking fabric of my being. I go wherever you take me, I am not following you, but moving with you, tip toeing in perfect time. I feel every step you take pounding in my brain, although ignored, falling apart, and in disrepair, I stay beneath you. It’s the nights I hate the most when I am removed from you. Without a second glance I am tossed aside, or left at the door. Hidden away under the bed, or in the closet. And its throughout these nights my loneliness overwhelms me. I dream of being something more to you, and realize this will never be, yet I will never leave. Only when you finally destroy me, and throw me away, will we part.
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J.Marie
I am a writer, a musician, and an artist. Words, rhythm, soul, art, flesh, & bones, are the components to this being, that is me. I live to create, and it is my privilege to share with whoever stumbles upon me. Only hoping, "Your creative membrane will swell so much, your eyes will change color.” - J.Marie http://jmarievllc.wix.com/jmarievllc
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