It was the first time that I had ever hated the sound of my own name. "Tommy, you're up," the coach had yelled down from the entrance of the dugout. I was sitting on the end of the bench next to my ... [+]
Like a waterfall
Flowing over the aged jagged rocks
It has formed over the years.
The rusty gutter succumbs,
Freedom.
The water gushes from this escape route.
I sit here in the quiet
Listening to the aquatic drama;
The stillness of the dark
Against the rush of water;
I embrace it.
But then the dog snores.
I listen for your breath.
Not out of concern
But to still feel we have a connection
Of some sort.
Desperation on my part.
I sit here in the quiet.
Happy in the darkness;
I know I can breathe
Without you.
Flowing over the aged jagged rocks
It has formed over the years.
The rusty gutter succumbs,
Freedom.
The water gushes from this escape route.
I sit here in the quiet
Listening to the aquatic drama;
The stillness of the dark
Against the rush of water;
I embrace it.
But then the dog snores.
I listen for your breath.
Not out of concern
But to still feel we have a connection
Of some sort.
Desperation on my part.
I sit here in the quiet.
Happy in the darkness;
I know I can breathe
Without you.