in my thoughts
| January 9, 2009 | Posted by caroline under Uncategorized |
geographically and mentally displaced, distanced, dragging vines and strings across a globe, pulling knots tying bows tangling with broken hair conditioned to leave and depart, upon arrival, leaving pieces in too many places, behind couches and in strangers faces returning to find that buildings have been constructed on the ground once called home, cranes climb the walls of a once abode and only the bricks and stones and sand are the same shade of gray that coloured the sky above a bed in a cold, shared room in a white country that shakes like a globe on ice and zoned out i’d read and write the memories of fields and expanses of land waves holes in the ground i’ve dug and i keep returning, searching for the shit i buried in a place that once was home.
