I feel as if
I was only given one choice.
I could be exactly like him,
as genetics dictated
or just like her
a person I absolutely hated.
Well now as life is so cruel
the tables have turned around
I am like her more than ever
and despise him more, I've found.
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Tickle your toes. . .
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like me- it serves as a question as well as an appropriately foolish letter in bad company it only teams up with words like yodel, ...
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Another Indian woman living on our block has hair swept back and braided has jeweled toes, is in all yellow traditional regalia, and walks w...
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husband and I trek a mile for ice cream just for the creamy banana, crunchy pecans, and chunks of thumb-sized chocolate. shoes flipping and...
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driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu... -
hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
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there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
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In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but... -
Out the window, I thought I saw Emily pale, gawking. a green T-shirt. bouncing firey springs on her head.
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nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
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confession is all: it is what my poetry is, and that is my life.
Poets United Contributor
aww...ain't that always the way it goes. but you can change her legacy by creating your own. <3
ReplyDeleteBravo.
ReplyDeleteThis is profound.