it was world enough. or so she thought. the sun also rising on so many years of darkness. strings. chasing the arcs of the soul. nervous worms blindly navigating the soil in her head.
she let the lie tell her. content to be the character. she squeezed the wind. cluthced it. like strings on the fingers of god.
the weak grew strong. pulp and ink in an eddy of when.
she gave nothing to the world. had nothing to spare it. And received the same. an orphan of the universe. drowning in a sea of distant stars. negotiating with eternal darkess. stealing light whenever should could.
she'd pretend to know what living was. dance to the songs and smile at the princes. lying. knowing they were not convinced. trusting in the music though she couldn't hear it.
drowning in paper cups. painting on frosted windows. stealing life in sobs and hiccups.
the stroke of ambition like the flicker of a dying bulb. the permanence of darkness. a simple directive. the barren of paradise. the promise of damnation.
Saturday
12/15/2012 01:27:00 AM
| Life Poems |