I am not of your design or your failed attempts
A breath worth taking yet on exhale won't come back
I am not lying in the path of your destruction
Nor still bleeding from open wounds like heroin tracks
I am beyond your nasty grip around my life's organs
Your savage artist's bloody pen poised atop my canvas
Oozing my copper scented essence where once blank
Survivor of surgically extracting you from my anus
Remodeled and rehabilitated
Reconnected and resuscitated
Redrafted and reevaluated
I am so much more than your design
I am your wildest dreams defined.
08282018
©WWW.NWALKSALADY.BLOGSPOT.COM
Love is not prejudice. Love is not boastful. Love is not pessimistic. It is even-handed, humble, and all consuming. If you choose to follow my lead enjoy the bread crumbs to my heart's light.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
ONCE UPON A TIME
OFTEN TIMES I WONDER WHERE TIME GOES WHEN IT FLIES WHAT HAPPENS TO THE STRINGS OF THE HEART WHEN CUT WHOSE TURN IS IT TO BRING BACK TH...

-
THE SUN SETTLES AFTER A DAY OF BLISTERING HEAT YOU SLIDE BESIDE ME GENTLY EASING SHOES FROM MY FEET BRUISED FROM A DAY PRANCING ...
-
The crack of my ribs could be heard silently fashioning her heart Elevated illusions of child bearing hips and my seed to carry my name ...
No comments:
Post a Comment