July 18, 2016

they leave
Holes behind them,
Wide open doors, worn out spaces
Where they used to sit
before they came to halt
And stumbled out
beyond the horizon of whispers

They leave,
Behind them,
absence of their speech
Small trinkets in wood and metal
new patterns you have to draw
And lack of warmth in silence

They leave
so that you can stumble
but baby i know i know
that your narrow walkway
Will end in a light switch
and not a moon eclipse

They leave
Holes behind them
Then we fall in
Then we crawl out



10 Responses to “Untitled”

  1. I love it; what is it about?

  2. I mean, who is “they”?

  3. forpuck said

    I think that’s up to you, Janna.

  4. So it can be personalized then. Wonderful!

  5. wkkortas said

    I would postulate (as I am a good-for-nothing postulating bastard) that the “they” is indeed up to us, perhaps being the sum of all that comes in and then goes out of our lives, leaving the “small trinkets” that tumbleweed together to create Marley’s chains for all of us.

  6. claudia said

    the lack of warmth in silence was what hit me most – i think it says much about a relationship when you just can sit in silence and feel warm and accepted and comfortable

  7. forpuck said

    This is about your parents and mentors and the already or future loss of them.

  8. claudia said

    reading that again after having lost my mom, gives this a new dimensiion – and yeah – it’s been a while…

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