what is it, exactly,
that you're doing?
I'm talking to you,
universe
how am I to take
what's happening?
I bare crooked teeth
still through all
I feel so warm &
wanted
yet so wholly
rejected
I need whispers
in my ear
sweet messages
to hold me
when there's no
refuge near
what at last is
the scheme here?
there's a rug
somewhere,
set to be ripped
from under me
but that's how
these things go
like spring snow
the way that the
wind blows
all of those
spectacles
into observable
formation
I want to understand
I'm not ready yet
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 5:57 PM UTC
what is it, exactly,
that you're doing?
I'm talking to you,
universe
how am I to take
what's happening?
I bare crooked teeth
still through all
I feel so warm &
wanted
yet so wholly
rejected
I need whispers
in my ear
sweet messages
to hold me
when there's no
refuge near
what at last is
the scheme here?
there's a rug
somewhere,
set to be ripped
from under me
but that's how
these things go
like spring snow
the way that the
wind blows
all of those
spectacles
into observable
formation
I want to understand
I'm not ready yet
Request permission to use this poem