Longing and BlackA Poem by CrowleyA Bubo/CSR Joint....what can I say, she makes me look good.Longing and Black What makes a good woman all longing and black? Perfectly trampled, left two dimensional, an obsolete paper doll She sat and rocked away forty years of wax paper happiness, no stick "I ate his potential like an aged and perfectly marbled steak....choking on the grisly fat" I stare right ahead lying on starched sheets Spasms of panic coat my imploring thoughts Like a shroud of darkness it covers my sins No stoking of my fires eclipsing moonlight But death of dreams lost in endless years To the glory of a man I so fear What makes a tired woman fold up her sails? That gripping horizon too far for walking, the sunrise riveting, but false Instead, screaming out at the sunset, "please don't go down again", not many left "I bound my thoughts instead of my feet, and now they are small and in your rear-view" How many sunsets did I wait To only watch the tides rising My face is no longer my face With every line of you etched in its place I never ran, but buckled with every taste of liberty Every thrust an agony, every kiss a purgatory Every page your story, every show your territory Bound by society, hinging on your insanity What makes a loving woman percolate hate? Gaskets made for sealing, thought and opinion, rotten and dry Droplets of bitterness, steaming on outdated pipes, bursting "He dined again and again on the fullness of my bosom.....depleting essential nutrients" I prayed for strength, to slice into your heart while you slept I prayed for silence from the ugliness in my head Instead, the power of your stance, the tone of your voice Collided somewhere between hell and breaking point A house that rattles, floors that moan Walls steeped in misery, cutting off every corner stone How does a crippled woman find her legs? Is it too late to find my place in the sun, burning my own tracks Creeping to a destination of reflective comfort, shining again “I am resilience personified, strong, beautiful, rising…..still loving” But there's one tiny little thing you forgot In all those years, I weeded my plot Abandoned my draughts, my steel bars And dug up every bit of rot, My abattoir of sanctuary, my final star And I'm flying through your cold hateful heart Respect Regret No turning back Longing and black © 2010 CrowleyAuthor's Note
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Added on August 25, 2010Last Updated on August 25, 2010 AuthorCrowleyPhoenix, AZAboutLike to hang out with other writers and see what's what. Have met a lot of good people on this and other sites through the years. Decided to come back and do a little posting and reading. Hit me up i.. more..Writing
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