Walking The Streets Of A Guided Tour

Walking The Streets Of A Guided Tour

The human heart

in search of a hand

that will hold it when the ache starts,

sharp bursts that break apart

our cold exteriors, tearing a hole

through calm atmospheres.

Craving someone else just to be here

to hear us shatter

and understand our cracks in the pavement,

how we fall through the gaps out of fear

of losing something worth saving for later.

Clinging onto the bruises that might matter

as if they are clues mapped out on skin.

Wearing ourselves thin,

instinct starving by the second,

till we can’t tell where the road ends

and the souls of our feet begin.

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