Perspective

One circle, two circle, three circle -
four.
These footprints are overlapping,
amongst the words of lies.
Your face is imprinted, laced into my every -
thought. Or memory.
Either way, it's just too much.
I need to gain some perspective,
I need to gain some love that's pure.
Cause the gravel in our voices,
Is making it harder and harder to speak the -
truth.
Yearning turns to emptiness,
despair turns to hatred.
and love turns into nothing.
A faded road with nothing there.
How can sweaty palms keep a tight grip?
What happens when there's nothing left,
for me to hold onto to?

February 18, 2011
(c) Stephanie Lynn