Sunday, May 27, 2012
wink
you don't care,
even though you were there.
and so like you
the little exhausted children sleep through
all of the noise, and florescent lighting.
all of the sickness, and dog fighting
and all of my complaints, piteous, wasted breath
protests, futile. but complacency, death.
and so I shall put this scribbling to good use,
like scrubbing the sink, and taking out refuse.
Maybe start paying off some of this debt,
but those are the little things I always forget.
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Tickle your toes. . .
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everything on my desk is blue. plus my shirt and my fingernails too- because I am here without you.
Poets United Contributor
just a question for you, Amy. are you purposefully structuring these like prose this time around? i think they are good either way, but i just noticed a different structure from over on LJ. x
ReplyDeletei just wanted to see how it looked, and i liked them better this way. :)xx
ReplyDelete