Forgive This Grief (Miscarriage)This heart of mine bears its burden--Forgive This Grief (Miscarriage) by *bloodawni
I wear too many tears for empty arms
oh, few are the things I know for certain
but these emotions make odd little balms
forgive this mother's grief for stolen dreams
and let alone these tears that stream.
Forgive this mother's grief,
forgive this mother's grief,
remember things aren't always what they seem.
I know it's wrong to yearn for this,
but those moments when you despair
would give me back something I've missed--
a life of burdens I wish I coud bear.
Forgive this jealous heart that wants to share
the grumpy shouts, the unmade beds, you bear.
Forgive this jealous heart,
forgive this jealous heart,
remember it's 'bout a baby for whom I care.
These arms still ache for my baby's weight,
and the screaming absence of her cry
opens anew an unhealed space
where all that lives is the question-- "why?"
Let this heart heal as time goes past
and if an outburst leaves you aghast
let this heart heal.
Let this heart heal,
remember the daughterless role in
Missy in a StormLittle legs burdened by fearMissy in a Storm by *bloodawni
carried in cries heartbreaking to hear;
scary sounds all around
and puppy prayers are whined aloud.
She shivers, she shakes
skies, thick with thunder, speak
broken spirits shed an ache--
doggy dreams and cast-off cries.
Self PortraitAt night I sleepSelf Portrait by *bloodawni
while I'm awake,
dependable as a rock
so watch me flake;
my heart is pure
and tainted black,
I'm always busy
so call me slack;
my eyes are shut
I see the world,
my self is closed right in
so is my self unfurled.
another pretentious poem about insomniaI swallow words in my sleep,another pretentious poem about insomnia by *toxic-nebulae
little nightingales that flutter
at my throat
and will not let me be.
I wake with their wings
on my tongue, their four-
to be recorded (as
though they were of any worth)
and here is my secret:
I have been writing while you have been sleeping.
I am going to need a lot of tea.
your teeth leave different scarswhat they didn't tell me--
August 31, 2013
Daily Lit Deviations during 2013
Your Non-Existent CompetitionMy fingers hover over numbers I have not needed to think about for years, and I urge myself to make the call. Still hesitant, I pick out the digits that still translate to "home" in my mobile, though for years it has been only a house; sometimes mine, sometimes not. It rings once and I hang up, then try again and again and again. Third time might be the charm, but today it takes five of these hang ups before I stay on the line.
(we all are the) monarchwe are not born noble.
(November 17, October 13)
I Am Not Your ReceptacleI am not your receptacle,
|Please consider giving me a llama rather than thanking me if that's what you're here for (and know that if I haven't already given you one, I do reciprocate), but you're very welcome either way. |
Feel free, also, to start up a random conversation!