Little Lives, Little Rooms

All my life we’ve kept our lives in small concealed compartments,
in hiding spots in little rooms, our little home in separate boxes.
We stole our eyes and left the rest, and small talk now survives.
Please forgive my faulted faith, I’ve lived so long alone outside.

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This entry was posted in between the lines, candid, exposed, heart, notebook, of the heart, pages, restless and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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