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| Saturday, September 01, 2007 |
| So Tired. |
It hangs heavy over the mountain tops, huge, golden predictable.
It makes a slow ascent, only a half disc tonight, like a button partially pulled through the silk of the navy nights sky.
A spark of the lighter, crickets chirping so loud one can't collect her thoughts.
I should be sad.
I should be angry.
I should be broken.
I am disjointed, torn, tattered.
How does one pull the pieces together? Where does one find the nails, bolts, plaster, cloth, thread to patch the damage that has been done?
I am flat.
Steadily the golden hue becomes clean, white, bright as an angels wings.
It is oblivious to laughter, to pain, to the beating of a billion hearts.
It feels no fear, has never experienced rejection, does not know sorrow.
Sometimes I would like to pull the button through.
Sometimes I want to fix the incompleteness of its closure.
Sometimes I want to be nestled in the craters and dark spots of that great disc, with out the cares of this world.
A glance over the shoulder, a gentle salute to the lifeless orb.
Goodnight. |
posted by katmandusuekookachoo @ 11:09 PM  |
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