I’d let boys blow
My innocence and stability away
Only to wish
That other, prettier girls were the same
*
Time would go by
My seeds slowly did too
Blowing in the wind
Of pheromones, testosterone, and sin
*
Then the storm hit
Ripping my seeds into it’s grasp
Almost engulfing me from my roots
Asphyxiated under the profound grasp
*
All that remains
Is a few seeds
My dainty stalk
Sustained from the root
Where it begins, the pain
Sydney West,
Harbert, Michigan,
United States
disemboweling@hotmail.com
Thursday, 7 February 2013
Friday, 1 February 2013
Waterlogged
Rain pounds pebble-dashed walls
Rebounds and reverberates
against panes of glass.
A million tiny droplets, crashing, splashing,
Cold, hard concrete. No grip.
The water, frozen soft.
Fine icy pulp covers the concrete floor,
black, almost greasy,
slippery.
Back wheels, black tires
Scrape and push and
spin and spin
Going no where.
Aimee Miller
Liverpool, England
aimeeaimzmiller@aol.co.uk
Rebounds and reverberates
against panes of glass.
A million tiny droplets, crashing, splashing,
Cold, hard concrete. No grip.
The water, frozen soft.
Fine icy pulp covers the concrete floor,
black, almost greasy,
slippery.
Back wheels, black tires
Scrape and push and
spin and spin
Going no where.
Aimee Miller
Liverpool, England
aimeeaimzmiller@aol.co.uk
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