This sand lays loose, but together in my hand.
Nothing can stop us.
"I want to grip it harder. It''s to free for me to stand".
Sand to dust.
The particles begin to fall back to the earth as each finger curls.
There goes understanding and passion.
Pressure pushing the sand out so tight my hand begins to burn.
There goes caring and fatal attraction.
We are slipping away one morsel at a time and now all that's left is bad, but by the time I decide to open my hand, I'll only see the sand i lost and the relationship I never had.
No comments:
Post a Comment