awakening
torturing mind with stark perfection of a song serving as the giving mother who never did
try to hold you so close as the clouds break in rapid succession in a sweltering sky
tiptoe through lands of dreams, afraid to witness awakening to ruddy shots of possibility
postponing courage again, testing the waters proving that theories move in odd ways
rushing to bite the hand which holds out a bleeding heart in hopes of acceptance
there’s a hollow ring in the crater when shouts fall on deaf ears
but comprehension leaks fluid like organic matter from a sieve
and words are mere petals straining to hold onto the flower head
but the strands of life must persist in natural fall
among so many other things, we lose sixty hair strands each day--- why stop at reason?
lap
and with eyes closed, you place your head on my lap
and I stroke away all your cares in the hopes to soften that blistered terrain raging inside
and sagacity will wash over us and render sweet oblivion to concerns of the world
there will come in our lives, so many laps and countless hurdles
can one really place importance on which lap counts more than another?
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 5:24 AM UTC
awakening
torturing mind with stark perfection of a song serving as the giving mother who never did
try to hold you so close as the clouds break in rapid succession in a sweltering sky
tiptoe through lands of dreams, afraid to witness awakening to ruddy shots of possibility
postponing courage again, testing the waters proving that theories move in odd ways
rushing to bite the hand which holds out a bleeding heart in hopes of acceptance
there’s a hollow ring in the crater when shouts fall on deaf ears
but comprehension leaks fluid like organic matter from a sieve
and words are mere petals straining to hold onto the flower head
but the strands of life must persist in natural fall
among so many other things, we lose sixty hair strands each day--- why stop at reason?
lap
and with eyes closed, you place your head on my lap
and I stroke away all your cares in the hopes to soften that blistered terrain raging inside
and sagacity will wash over us and render sweet oblivion to concerns of the world
there will come in our lives, so many laps and countless hurdles
can one really place importance on which lap counts more than another?
