When it was. a choice. decision eclipsing triumph. when it was roses. all the thorns still intact. and there was still the blood to trust. wounds didn't need bandages. only time.
when we wore those playgrounds. in fraying dresses. the child never complained. because who would listen.
when we travelled. meeting the end at the beginning. we assumed we were special. but we were wrong.
the sticky onion skin. decisions. the blunt pencils. consequence. they each have their lies.
pieces of the doll. easily becoming property. the ghosts at the mouth of the fountain. drowning. because the dead cannot swim. the forest concealed by the trees. revealing. its broken branches. sprints through time diminishing. the value of having lived it.
moments write our lifetimes. in coughs and sneezes. the virus of humanity still lacking a cure.
it takes me there. in angry stabs. removing the moment from under my feet. it asks questions. and it answers them. as if I'm not even there.
promising to fill these hollows skins with bones its still too weak to lift.
Tuesday
1/25/2011 01:19:00 AM
Post a Comment