Winding, Crooked Trails

Shared Expressions and Musings with a Connection to the Origin of Things and a Surly Hatred of Progress and Development along with a Churlish Resistance to all Popular Improvements (except for HDTV and Dolby 5:1 surround sound and maybe Books on CD) (thanks Ed)

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

She turned around to look at me as I was walkin' away


I was never your solace, always your sin.

Never your ballast and never your friend.

I marked your wrists and marked your soul

From squeezing too tightly, from not letting go.

I swallowed your whispers and muffled your screams,

Tangled hands in your hair and pulled at your dreams.

Rushed you, nudged you and drew you back in

Mussed you, hushed you and broke you again.

Shoved you and moved you, licked at your wounds.

Loved you, pushed you, too far and too soon.