December 2010
3 posts
for my eleventh.
you are an imbalance of yes and no, you are turning from both friend and foe. you, are i on a cold day.
you are surrounded by a bubble of mistrust, you and your hurt turn to rust. you are everything a woman should be.
you are fierce and unwavering, you are gentle and sometimes unforgiving. you are my first breath every morning.
This Poem Is Incomplete.
she is running, running. she leans, she leans. i am ablaze in the dust shes swept up to disguise her exit, she fumbles for excuses and cold responses. she is hiding beneath a mountain of waste; her waste. wasted light. she fumbles and i fall. she spits at me and i clean the dribble off the side of her mouth. she throws stones, i make them into poems; always for her. i am a stupid person, a waste....
yes,
i want to move, i want to remain still. i want to be quiet, i want to remain until the rain steals your breath and the mud stains my dress. i want to move, i want remain still. i want to be quiet, i will remain until.