Wednesday, July 12, 2006

it' s jacked up mannn

living like i dont see the truth/is murder of my soul/and i wonder when i will stop caring about what he say/she thought/they do/before i throw a couple of fuk it's to the wind/and sit at a cafe/drinking coffee/happy with my decision/heir to hermit life/but that ain't me/love the laughter i can crease into a mother's pain/her confusion clouding around us/i find words that make her forget it/for a second/a couple of minutes/for now/for i remember being her/thoughts crayola'd on my eyelids/ love a fantasy so familiar i could taste the ending/the glass slippers/the ugly step sisters/the witch/but no one told me the prince would be an asshole/that he might save me/create a haven for me/but as soon as the story ended and no one was watching/he'd flip my spirit inside out for good measure/assured i'd never leave/never question his stares/never concerned about his other maidens/hidden between the lines of poetry/no one offered the truth./and now i wonder/why on earth/would i tell her everything/when the fairy tales are enough/and make the lies sweet enough/to swallow whole.


Shelle said...

'flip her spirit inside out'....this whole piece is unbelievably sadly beautiful.

Vett said...

It has been too long since I have been here. I enjoy reading your blogs. I am always proud of you. We may not talk often, but please know that I love you unconditionally.

my coffee is always said...

mo.. i wrote something for you for them... evil miK