sting

every part, stung like hot

sweat in my eyes; trickling

glimmers like a waterfall;

leaving the earth, bursting

open into a new life; taste of

hope like life; licking lips in

fervent anticipation; only not

mine, not my life; this time.

 

grey

of anxiety propelled;

sky high; I, with my

head hung low in the

grey shame of being;

trudged through dirt.

bicker

we bicker, over the likelihood

of fear; reigning like wildfire

over the slump of our lives.

soul

your body; a suit

that encases the true

worth of your being;

your one precious soul

 

extension

the extension of oneself

into the majority of this

world; seething at the idea

of fresh blood; youth set on

stilts; eager opportunists buried

in foils of success; and I, with my

tiny roar, almost slipping silent- just

yearn for a quiet space, with merging

corners and a few hearts to hold warm.

brawn

despair gnaws, and

I am unable to negate

it’s hunger away from

the brawn of my spirit.