Through the windfall of winding cords, wrenching complex from belly to head.
Circling back til sensitivity is dead.
No real accord, all the love to afford,
gaba and dopa, stroking bad luck.
so what
give up
This is who you are.
Through the windfall of winding cords, wrenching complex from belly to head.
Circling back til sensitivity is dead.
No real accord, all the love to afford,
gaba and dopa, stroking bad luck.
so what
give up
This is who you are.
You held me close, said don’t let go and I fell into the arms of another
Skinned your knee, the rule of three, strike out the feelings of others
My mother concedes, press on the womb, but it feels so much more like a tomb
And I’ve escaped this alone.
My greatest fear, I’d keep you here, all you claimed was your freedom
I’m the same, selfish blame, my kids & the will to release them
Weeks spent between, swaddled here, amidst the loss of connection
Dreamt of you, and the chance to renew, do you still think of me too ?
And all you held in your hands, was never part of the plan. A page in the same book, no one but you and I understand— all that you hate, all that you love , blurring the lines just to make it up…and we made it up as we went along
I don’t belong.
Happy for you, but that’s a lie too, when you left me here to latch on
To someone new, no one like you, the potent lure of dependence
Smallness of self, the weight of the earth and each new passing day
From here, from my birth
No more protecting your worth
This will get easier with each passing day, I hold onto you until the memory fades…
Take a moment to catch your breath.
Blow that last wisp of air against my neck.
Guide my hand under the sheen of your guise,
don’t hide your smile, your lips were meant to please mine.
The curved silhouette, your scent, hanging long, removed from this space.
The touch of patchwork memories, wanting, longing, overcome by your face.
Working under an emblazoned sky, until the end of time…