5.7.5 Words: 22

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In my darkest hour

I fear nothing so much as 

the loss of these words


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I make lists  of things  that I think  will  make me  somehow  better  at life the things that I need the things that I like  the ones  that feel  right  and I  find every first line holding  your eyes your hands your face  your name and my heart is afraid desperately  trying to quickly erase to start over to replace  the ache  that I feel  I avoid  avert  appeal  to my lonely  aching soul  to let you  to leave you  to make you  go  a fresh page blank lines  pen set and I  drag it down then across and I know... I know I know... that this list is my truth  and my  heart  has been  lost
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