in that place between morning and night, I beg you
I know, oh I know, how loud the voices are,
they drown your smile, dim the light
I know it, for my demons are stronger than my spine
and when the worst is at it’s best it’s their hands holding me up,
claws for bones, oil for blood,
ashes to ashes,
exhaling the last of hope.
Dawn rises and we, the bent, the broken, turn our backs.
But, listen –
there, there; it goes on.
you ache and breathe.
you break, twice a day, as you slumber and when you wake,
but what does it matter?
iust a little closer – there.
I hear your heart, beating.
– t. bennett / @raggedhearts