Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2011
i can feel my feet swelling already
thats how you know when it will be too heavy
or when you will not be strong enough
there are no dots to be connected,
and i want to speak but i know i am the only one who would listen.
my stomach keeps asking me to pull out the drawer
and spill milk, but it's empty so what good would that do me?

the air from my ears is sweet like honey
steam forms your body in my mind, where's my apology?
where's my money?
i can't ask, that defeats the purpose, and all i ever seem to be doing is pulling on yarn hoping to find something at the other end
i'm only unraveling

i need sleep
and a movie
and time to plan my future without worrying what a bald man who wears shorts in the snow will think
or a shiny man who doesn't cover his knees
or a grey man who thinks he can treat me as if we are sexually intimate.
tell me if i'm being oversensitive, okay?

Well, I'm not.
Mary Ann Osgood
Written by
Mary Ann Osgood
724
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems