nathanael.ink

I still limp him along
he in my head
words on my tongue
half are mine half are his
hard to say
which is which

I still limp him along
when I get drunk
when I scold the young
or love someone

I limp him along
in the sounds that I make
wishing all my pain away

I limp him along
through the cries of a cat
the smell of his clothes, and the cloves that he smoked in them
I wish came back

oh I limp along
oh I limp along
I would think more of it
and of      after it
were it not for him

I’m glad to know he knows its answers
& glad to know I do not know them