![]() Midnight ThinkingA Poem by Saraplenty
It's half past midnight
when I open the door to do more damage to my lungs hidden under my breasts. Expecting the world to be quiet instead finding them the users. On their porches beers in hand ten to one making grand plans. Transported back to a time when I also played pretend but never dress up. Acting the part of a perfect loser talking about life in a body made of dead bones. That still somehow yearned to be better prettier happier freer. I bet they're doing the same. But I'm not a betting (wo)man or maybe I am. I think how maybe I make this all too easy. Too convenient for you to place love on a shelf. So you can look but not touch insuring you are safe. I think about silence and the secrets that shrouded my sun and how not saying anything tends to scream in one's ear. I look at these adult kids and remember how awkward I felt always in skin that had no hope because it never dared to risk. Venturing nothing gaining a slow and painful death. I think about you and me and us and them. And watch as my past, present, and future merge in a quick inhale exhale. And I shut the door on the noise so I am better able to hear my voice of a heart that now knows how to live. © 2011 Saraplenty |
Stats
167 Views
1 Review Added on March 28, 2011 Last Updated on March 31, 2011 AuthorSaraplentyDallas, TXAboutI am awesome. And sometimes, I vomit things on to paper to aid in breathing. I write for me, to release what it is I am feeling at that moment, and because I like turning those feelings into so.. more..Writing
|