Skip to main content

hard times fall on soft tongue palates

I receive each droplet. I know that I am in a spot I wish to leave, but my feet got stuck. God, will you assist me in that hole, look in on me from time to time as your lesser than, as your grown child? I know all this was before me, before me. Destiny being comfort, but so hard to eat. Heartache being it's lovely self, there to unravel and accept. I also know my mother is slipping away, and this causes me to bend in half and lapse into the mercy of that circumstance. And I know I have a way of getting back up. Because there is much to be done.

terrible clouds await.
I love that I'm alive to greet them.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

snakewalker

each day I see this guy - on my way home from work. he's this odd young man, he wears a wife-beater, long shorts, bandana, but that's not the odd thing. . . . he dons a yellow snake with faint brownish spots around his neck. a fat snake, really long too. in his right hand, a leash, attached to a pit bull. they all seem to froth at the mouth. today he looked me right in the eye, even though I'm in my car making a right hand turn as speedy as possible. and I what I want is to get rid of that image. odd huh.
2 comments
Read more

Glossy

my eyes are shut against this high-rise window seat I can't hear the cars with them closed this way, but I can hear how they tread the wet december with them open and I just know your eyes are closed but you know I'm out here moving along the mud with my tongue dragging behind me eating the words you leave out the words you don't say you are a devil I hate myself for doing that but I am so exquisite in that dead-walk pathetic and hollow tv watcher maybe devil, that's why you stopped looking my way.
1 comment
Read more

there is the wasteland to consider

now that I'm done, I'm in the middle, and sick of being with myself the way myself used to be about 6 months ago I can feel it sucking me from the jaw down to my feet, across my chest, rotting my hands, stealing the gloss away from what is outside my door the truth is I am afraid of life, as boring as that sounds, afraid of conversations that lead to questions- I have idea what to even say anymore numb effects of one trying to become what one clearly is not loser again, is it ok to do that
1 comment
Read more