The Idea Of Us : Why Or Where To
Do I have a refuge from my own thoughts?
Is there a place where I am safe from my own mind?
Where is the escape? Where is the flight?
Where can I weep without the gaze of others burrowing into my back, passing through my soul and my very being?
Why do I weep my soul's fullness before them?
Why do I weep whenever I see my little one crying?
Why do you cry, my sweet one, my beautiful one?
Why do you cry, light of my eyes?
Come... let me take your burden from you and make it mine.
Do not look at my little one. Look at me.
Do not speak of my beloved one.
Fill your mouths with whatever words you have about me instead.
Is it why? Or is it where to?
Is it: Why did what happened happen, and why were the words that were spoken spoken?
Or is it: Where shall we flee? Where shall we live without knives in place of tongues pursuing us?
Do you know?
Or is this forever beyond the reach of us both?
