Sunday, February 24, 2008
sunset sail,
orange goodbyes,
a sharp outline
cuts the sky to bleed.
sea, sea!
sight's swimming before thee
and the feet that touches sandy bottoms
slips.
bottles of floating epistles,
and anchors piercing beds of weed,
the water's playing the old game
of stealing gravity.
i'm a fool to try
(to change) things that don't
Change-
like my salt-encrusted knees.
---
i'm angry. it's unfair. i try so, so hard to reach shore. why can't you see? i struggle and i fight the painful, contracted breaths.
my lungs, they burn. my eyes, they are sore and tingling.
i'm sick of swimming away;
of trying so damn hard in turning my back to the horizon. and not succeeding.
i'm sick of my resolve (my lack thereof-)
i'm sick of this spent paddling back and forth
i'm sick of losing my gravity
i'm sick of feeling the same way all over again
if scents diffuse, can feelings sublime?
un moment à se rappeler
. a moment to remember.
