Or A Play Of The Light - Tumblr Posts

poem a day truths like that only grow more elusive it seems as i get older every time you believe you caught one it was only just a dream or a play of the light on your mirror in the evening but you need to believe in these truths or they just become sour or grow dim or dull or turn to ash in your mouth but every time it gets harder to remember who you were when you discovered it to remember how to be sufficiently light to hold it without breaking it or cutting yourself on the edge of the glass and if you wear gloves you cant feel the warmth of the words on your skin if you place it too far from your bed you just forget where it was and when you go to look for it dust has just settled inside the glass and it is clouded now clouded and covered in grime so you sleep with the truth under your pillow and every morning you wake with cuts on your cheeks and palms and if you don't it starts to dim and you'll have to pluck another truth from the branches of the sky like it's not a fruit growing from your own heart like it doesn't take more and more effort every time to do this like you're not forgetting every passing day forgetting how these truths are born how they grow