When I turn my words into theirs
You’ll see that I’ve been heard
My fingers tracing the skeletons of books
Sunsets resting on my earlobes
Water streaming down my sloppy hair
It will all come back
When I’ll play around in their tongues
For you see, I will make myself a book
For everyone to read
You cannot escape me then
Can you shut your eyes and say
You’ve never heard of that story?
I will dance with your thoughts
Shedding skin in their tracks
A miniature version of torture
That you’re inflicting on me now
I’ll be out of print someday
And you’ll be the one
Madly looking for my manuscript
To finally collect my soul
You’ll make my words your own
You will come home.
mimimusing 