Passion Fruit Juice
where oh where
does my passion lay? in a shoebox,
under the staircase? i’ve been looking all day,
i’m getting too tired to play. i guess it’s better off this way,
to be missing eternally,
than to have been found and broken,
a curse that bounds when spoken,
these days i hardly mention your name.
most dreams are fairytales,
i need to pretend if i want to achieve.
i’m numb, like i’ve had a lobotomy. i am living in honesty
or i am not living at all,
my passions been pressed into the page
- transformed from a natural beauty into something useful.
Copyright © Tress Roses | Year Posted 2011
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