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Meg Freeman Jul 2011
In the shade of the freeway
The pretenders stalks his prey
Innocence quite uncorrupted
Until today.

In the shade of the willow tree
You lay here next to me
Draped in Spanish moss
Cicada symphony.

In the shade of the old motel
Feels like she's got to sell
Cigarette lights up the night
Sees a face she knows too well.
Meg Freeman Jul 2011
asleep at the light,

veteran dreams of the fight.

lost in the front lines,

the screams of fellow comrades

are really angry car horns.
Meg Freeman Jul 2011
we are awake,
you and i.
we are awake, together.

we sit in silence,
by the light of a turtle,
mulling over what is to come.

i believe i have carried life inside me,
i could not sustain it,
and it faded away quietly.

what would i have done,
had it lived in me?
am i heartbroken or safe?

you wrap me in you,
like an old quilt,
the  safest place i can be.

i will not have as they will,
but they will not have as i do.
i will not search for love.

i will never know desperation for company,
struggle for love or companionship.
i     have     you.
Meg Freeman Jul 2011
There once was a little sparrow who fell in love with a lion.
The lion warned the sparrow not to love him,
for he was bigger than she,
and he could crush her fragile bones.

But, the sparrow said, "No, Lion. I cannot go. I will love you even as I lay broken beneath your paw."
And so it was.
He loved her like he shouldn't, said they.
She didn't know how to love, said them.

Their squawks and twitters fell upon deaf ears.
The lion and the sparrow ran from them.
The sparrow flew away to nestle in the lions mane,
The lion roared at the slanderers, unknowing animals.

They ignored them.
They walked through woods in the rain,
Escaped in the night
And ran through the plains.

The lion stepped softly,
Kept the sparrow safe.
The sparrow sang sweetly,
Kept him in her wake.

"I love you," said the lion,
"like I never thought I could."
"I love you," said the sparrow,
"like I never knew I would."

"Don't ever go," said the lion,
"I cannot imagine you gone."
"Don't ever leave," said the sparrow,
"I know now, you are my song."

The murmurs faded,
Beasts quieted with time,
But the lion and the sparrow vowed to love the other,
Until the stars fell down.
Meg Freeman Jul 2011
i am my mothers child.
my mothers hands that held me, that i never wanted,
are my own.

"we have been cursed with beauty," she said.
i always remembered that.
and how fragile,
how bony her hands were.

her resolve to use them,
how it amazed me.
working in the garden tirelessly,
i knew how they ached.

our eyes are the same,
jade.
the big slanted kind,
like a cat, someone told me once.

my lips are bigger than hers,
my ******* too. I remember her being so bothered,
"that's not supposed to happen,
you must have got your ***** from your dad!"

my dad.
i was always a daddy's girl,
a tomboy,
especially when i was young.

i retained some traits from my father.
he is a good man.
but the things i learned best from him,
i wish i had not.

i learned to lie,
how to spend money where it was not needed,
and perhaps, how to be lonely.
i am my mother's child.
Meg Freeman Jul 2011
our kings
our queens
our shoulder angels
they all LIED to us,
THEY SAID IT WOULD BE JUST FINE.
oh, breathe.
take in words that mean nothing.
heavily broken and all i want to do is
CLOSE MY EYES.
my bones are shattered
my very FRAME crushed under the weight these faces put upon me.
i am caught in a butterfly net
struggling for air.
imagine me sighing.
because that is what i am now.
EXASPERATED.
i do not know how to be angry.
so it would seem, i slip to and fro
very much suffocated by Bitter and Sad.
they mock me, i fear.
Bitter flares up in me, tickling my throat
mean and sarcastic to say the least.
She laughs, "WHY CAN"T YOU GET ANGRY?!
THAT IS WHAT YOU ARE, IS IT NOT?"
I feel a small heat in my gut.
retaliate.
but then Sad slinks around my waist, slippery and cold.
come back.come back.come back.
no, no witty comeback.
just coming back to the UNBRAVE CAVE.
i think i resent sad for her ability to pull me away with her clammy eyes.
but i come.
these promises fall like rain and i remember when you said
ITS JUST A WORD.
i'm talking in my sleep.
dreaming of things that should taste sweet
but are bitter in truth. another mockery, i'm sure.
WORDS LIE beneath sheets of paper.
i tilt my head back, look to the sky where
GOLDEN LEAVES
SILVER FEATHERS
fall like snow, gracing the trees.
feel me sigh again, heavy.
my fingertips are cold, sick. tracing lines over my skin.
searching for a pocket where closure could lie hidden.
i'm running in circles, forgetting every day a little more.
fading. stuck in this disconnect, in limbo,
BURIED ALIVE.
rollercoaster dreams.
it would seem there is no closure for those who do not know how to be angry.
Meg Freeman Jul 2011
your nevers are thick, grainy like salt.
i taste your bitter words.
look, young prince, you are not alone.
be you broken, cracked or shattered...

my frame lies beside yours, equally broken.
you're searching for something in the wrong places, dear.
i pray you close your eyes and see,
your stars are all you need...

whether through whispers or wonders
or shadows of love and lust,
you are not truly broken.
look at your palm, love.

those lines, those rivers traveling endlessly
are your guide to peace.
wrap your mind in satin sheets,
in glittering diamonds, pearls and lace.

in your mind seeps a poison so thick,
i choke on it as i speak.
you are not alone chasing stardust, my dear.

i am always here,
parallel to you.
though at a distance,
chasing the same.

and we race, out of breath
and reaching for what is no longer there.
and we fall, we cry,
and think of failure.

but in our dreams we find the strength to believe in something more,
arrows in the mud that point us in the right direction,
or sunlit clearings.
sparkling dew, soul garden.
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