In the middle of a near-empty journal, one I started and dropped for some reason, I found this piece of writing:
How can I say "no" to you?
Can I say no to my own birth
Or say stop
to my beating heart
Easier to stay the rising moon
Or a raindrops' fall,
Tell the birds
to not love the wind
And still their song.
That babes should never cry
For the warm arms of their mothers.
How can I say no to you
When love rests in my bones
Can I turn them inside out
And scrape away your memory
Can I say no to melting snow
And stop the growth of trees
Dam rivers with my will
Or ask the stars to flee.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
About Me
- roberto kiam borderlineartist@gmail.com
- I live in a quaint, little town, plagued with the specter of speculation and commerce. I am trailer trash,with wishes for good dishes. I shoulda died long ago, but like a rescue dog, didn't. I am indescribably scattered. I speak three languages. I walk a tenuously, true path. I am lucky. For myself, for others. God, it is said, protects orphans, widows and the innocent.
No comments:
Post a Comment