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theforgetfulsPoems
her breath colors the winter air gray not the ugly kind of gray that winter snow ages into and not the kind that's pretty either. it's the kind of gray that's too fragile for time to sustain it's the kind of fragile too light for scales to hold it's the kind of light that wants to be lighter, that wants to be weightless it's the kind of weightless that only knows bony arms and hollow cheeks and it's the kind of bony, the kind of hollow, that turns ribs into cages and cages into prisons for hearts that want to be— not ugly, not pretty, not fragile, not light, not lighter, not weightless, and not even bony or hollow— but just be.
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May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 10:55 AM UTC
To Be
her breath colors the winter air gray not the ugly kind of gray that winter snow ages into and not the kind that's pretty either. it's the kind of gray that's too fragile for time to sustain it's the kind of fragile too light for scales to hold it's the kind of light that wants to be lighter, that wants to be weightless it's the kind of weightless that only knows bony arms and hollow cheeks and it's the kind of bony, the kind of hollow, that turns ribs into cages and cages into prisons for hearts that want to be— not ugly, not pretty, not fragile, not light, not lighter, not weightless, and not even bony or hollow— but just be.
she wants to be. to just be.
#breath#winter#ugly#colors#skinny#hollow#fragile#pretty#gray#bony
theforgetfuls
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theforgetfuls
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 10:55 AM UTC
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