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Literature
.
all the words
taste like salt
on my lips,
although all the oceans
evaporated and stopped
throwing up corpses
long ago;
now all our souls
lie bloated in the
burning sand -
the sun beating
down on our heads
like a war drummer
that got lost
along with the
cause.
(there's a feast for the crows,
but I don't think they're hungry.)
Literature
.
we sit side-by-side and i pour my dreams
down the drain, one-by-one;
you do not yet know i am the
epitome of natural disaster and
that when you offer me soft words
with gentle hands
i will pick them apart
mercilessly
in the dead of the night
and
throw them aside.
you are too kind for me and
i cannot survive another broken heart.
(yet here i stand,
falling hopelessly in love with you)
Literature
.
my sister -
she never hears the universe
singing to her,
she doesn’t even know
it has a song;
i watch
the birds land on her
dusty windowsill and
sing – beaks agape;
lungs bursting with
life,
i write
each note,
nurturing the secrets
they bring -
the seeds they
give;
look, i say, look
at the flowers
Gaia has given us
but she turns her head away,
and the flowers wilt,
unnoticed.
(i keep growing more
out of nothing but foolish hope)
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© 2014 - 2024 sairey
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