Little bits and Pieces awaiting their own poems. Until which they’ve found their home inside a collective of fragments.
I was raised in a Glass Menagerie
Now I collect wounded birds
The essence of you lingers
calling out to me like ,a past life reminiscence
a doll house of perfection lost to reality,
Our marriage the illusion.
I have been here too long. Stuck
in this place between living and dreaming.
I’ve forgotten to ask the questions
that make me cry Yes!
The day will come when silent offering sets our table
And we no longer invite romantic melancholy to dinner
Passionately you whispered me stories
recollections of our life I’d never heard before
Your laughter tastes like freedom
There is providence in the bumps along the road
I’m not sure we have enough spare tires
If I give you the power to destroy me
Can I trust you not to?
I’m looking for a partner in crime.
You’ll need to do the work. I’m lazy.
You must be logged in to post a comment.