prostrate.
2005-09-12 1:28 p.m.
i wrote you out becausei had to, manipulations in their orders, and, searching for truth i found youstripped of the ways you had taken and spouting friendship, while dreaming
i seemed too desperate for searching, complete and utter justice, the union made
in an exchange of keys, a year's long fight put aside just for me, the selfish natures that beside us lean, turn our heads both ways in harmonies
when we have not made time in time to think, take the long line left of justice, take the peace that comes with bending knees, with giving words, with both hands waiting open
i've been trying to describe myself in simple actions, and when the end comes close, the collission of the surface and the rest
i'll be on your bathroom floor early in the morning, my fingers circling in their search for meaning, my legs folded slightly beneath the rest of my body
i just want you to know this is me prostrate before the almighty, i just want you to know this is the natural order of things
in recovery.