burning images, burning bridges.

Thursday, December 11, 2008 at 2:25am


the knawing in the back of my neck,
the weight in my chest
and the sting at the bottom
of my throat burns. keeps burning.
burning these bedsheets and closed eyes
open lips into my memory.
burning the abuse,
the fiction and non,
the hunger vs. the starving
burning the rape, the violence,
the love and lack thereof.

an attempt to define society and think in numbers.
we -are all victims, -are all sinners and -are all saints. a
nd then the burning keeps yearning.

the murder of crows continue to weep,
crying out, ''my grace, my grace.''
pouring gasoline into me.
an ignition that becomes a flame.

less energy. more sleep.
and so we minus me equals: <
less than.

they too have floated on and passed away
and are alive but dead inside.
thinking you know is not really knowing. '

Dear God, make me a bird, so i can fly far. far far away from here'
'Dear God, make me a bird, so i can fly far. far far away from here'
'Dear God, make me a bird, so i can fly far. far far away from here'
'Dear God, make me a bird, so i can fly far. far far away from here'