Fury I wear like a slinky fox stole
whose beady little eyes look up at me in a deathly calm,
hanging loose around my boney neck.
Anger I hang like the Christmas star
blinking on to illuminate the dark with it's yellow hue
Regret I type into block and wide letters
resembling the words like black ninja stars
hurtling, hurtling i throw them
with precision...returning the hurt- to your tiny -ling heart.
Black and White and Read all over you,
Blue, man. So blue
and that deep purple hue... the healing rainbow, black and blue
and green and grief, is it not so?
Oh, grief, oh fire of grief
burning the driest kindling that is hope, that is faith.
I am tissue paper flowers on the float in the parade
I am tissue paper flowers, that bloom until it rains.
And I'll tuck my indignation and I'll shove my righteousness
down deep into my pockets
(such a shame you never darned that hole)
Bellow. Bellow out my rage
Wrap it in a shiny box, and tie it with a silky bow...
the gift of
knowing all the blackness
The gift of knowing how loud the mother's howl can sound.
I learn the curves of the drive away,
I learn the legs that will take me to run.
I am born of this, today.
Tomorrow? Ill be born of these ash as all that is good begins and begins again.
i am always just really **** grateful anyone chooses to read what i write, it's just that simple. i am **** grateful, thank you.