Open the curtains so I may enter
out the eyes of tears to the drops of new
water drowning, soaking, bleeding the black words
my Mother's mouth printed
upon the stale book of my memory,
a sick body to renew
submerging each page safe within soft muddy ground
only the rainy day brings weight to grieve
decomposing lessons into letters
beginning my writing as the rain becomes ink
my expression of truth now climbing to the surface
meeting some beam of friendship
reading my stories in empathy's sunlight
she speaks back to me my own transformation
smiling surely from a pane I perched to soar
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment