Something happens.
its a snap and a spill
and all eyes on me.
an iceberg on a table,
broken into little pieces
a sinking ship
and a helpful hand.
phone calls unanswered
just the ringing of guilt
she remains wise and silent
i make split second decisions
and run with traffic jams.
Louisville is an ache of a place
when the only lily among the thorns
remains etched on skin far away
a real, living, breathing peace
the last part of a crumbling puzzle
I have cold shaking nightmares,
tremors, night terrors
stories of old friends and hellos
ivy eating the bricks of houses
dreams for unattainable tomorrows
and bad poetry
No comments:
Post a Comment