i'm smiling like next week's tulips,
a quick burst of arterial red and then gone.
nobody whispers as loudly as you.
for forty days and nights i'm wandering,
touching the sky (blue but gray at the edges)
with my small hands, burning myself
into a thin crisp, a memory of flesh.
i want sleep, my eyelids heavy,
quiet and unnoticed in the sun,
a slow warmth molten in the hollows
of my elbows and my knees.
after next week i'll stop making excuses,
i'll laugh and flicker mothlike
and forget the important things that hurt me
and wake me up at midnight, shaking
and wanting hidden bruises.
i'm finally learning that what i do
will never be good enough:
i'm standing on the edge of the precipice, hesitant,
one step away from falling
or exploding into light.


"I don't judge people, I just watch them till it's time to look away. I wanna look away now." - Kristin Hersh

[This message has been edited by Tangerines (edited 05-14-2001).]

Good poem, the imagry was excellent. One suggestion, if you are going to put a note to the reader first, then make sure it is very clearly not a part of the poem. It confused me massivly. Good job. Ciao.  

[This message has been edited by Silver Butterfly (edited 05-14-2001).]

I was born myself, raised myself, and will continue to be myself. The world will just have to adjust.

I'm in love with my shadow
I admire it daily

"so when at times the mob is swayed to carry praise or blame too far, we may choose something like a star" --Frost