a grip of will against the lapse
holding back of clasp in spite of the elapse
a reckon of space house that has a room of “atleasts”
perchance, it is just a glimpse of wound enormous preoccupied
perchance, it is just a peek of scars
perchance, I used to live with melancholy
nonetheless,,
i want to live in the absence of fear
i want to live without the scream of farewell silence
i want to live in a broad light
i want to live somewhere else
somewhere else of devotion and love as the only language i know
i want to live (it’s a lie that i never want it)
i badly want to live without trepidation.
i want to live as much as i want to love, immensely.
shesshy 