I place myself upon a shelf;
the ink of my memories has lost it's definition;
The words that once danced inside my head have taken rest, carried their tired feet back to their beds.
I find myself upon a shelf,
The bray of my heard seems to fray;
Many a loves have come to stay,
Many a pleading to stay;
Borrow the secrets that weave a young woman's dreams.
I find myself dismounted from the shelf,
A head full of words, returning to their rhythm, finding their original form;
A heart ripe to break, filling to it's bray begging just to stay, to stay, dream a little while longer.
Uncrumpled, I find myself,
Begging just to stay.
Created: Apr 26, 2012lilley88 Document Media