The memory of me and him on the hill
The wind blew that day. It passed through
me like a hollow tunnel and out to show
me my place. The imprints too dirty to fully
clean off. A stain I look at the mirror with.
I no longer desire to be on that hill. That
height will no longer wield me and him.
I shall be down from that place.
In fact I will be low. The lowness will
engulf me to never be there.
The tone of him will longer be high.
I shall be next to no frequency.
To chase no sound. Never to hear or be
heard. For he's been that constant loud bell.
A stillness that shall come with peace.
#The memory of me and him
upper plover
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upper plover
Basically he called me useless 2.0
carmine gull