Uncategorized

Golden Oasis

Shackle me whole

fill me with your helium filled lies.

Chain me down

to an earth crusted melting pot.
This is not my home.

I remember the light sand

falling between my fingers.

The antique shop our uncle
bought his first guitar. I’ll run

when I can. Flee to the memory

of his first note. To the sun

shimmering off the golden
specs of dust. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s