Posted on November 28, 2008 by Deena
I am at the nadir, striving for a glimpse of the life of a polymath.
I thought I caught a strand of it
waving about in the air
but it was just an adage, floating around my head
perhaps in it.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
I am secrets and lies and discrepencies.
I am buried beneath a sea of bantering giants, crushing [...]
Filed under: cowardice | Tagged: i am tired of me | Leave a Comment »
Posted on November 28, 2008 by Deena
I need to always remember this.
It could be worse.
It may hurt to inhale, to breathe.
But at least I’m breathing.
I may not be able to sleep but
at least I’m not set to permanent sleep.
Not anytime soon.
I may have aching and flaming bones
but at least they aren’t brittle just yet.
At least all my cells are in place,
as far [...]
Filed under: angry prose | Leave a Comment »
Posted on November 25, 2008 by Deena
I wanted to explain to you once, the differences that make the lines between us
but in my flustered state I must have inverted or subtracted or multiplied;
I made an entirely macabre mess. I was never good at mathematics.
In allegories I speak my truths, skimming around it with my spoon,
lapping up the ends and licking to [...]
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Posted on November 22, 2008 by Deena
I want to be eternally young. I already feel the cold in my bones.
Imagine this, me, it, older.
I’ll be fragments of myself.
I listen to all these songs about heartbreak but I’ll never fully understand them.
I used to think I did but I realize now I was just young and in lust.
I feel like time is [...]
Filed under: just prose | Tagged: straight forward | Leave a Comment »