to be replaced with roses like me, red white and lavender--
with no one to care for them
everyone is busy sitting down or running in place,
or running in circles even.
Up the stairs to the front door that doesn't shut properly,
a hundred years plus history glues my essence to the floor.
The cats take her to the basement-
a flood of tears and privilege.
Water, water everywhere-knee high and damaging everything.
i feel it in my bones;
shaking its way up to my soul.
Hi Rose, It's me Julie
ReplyDeleteI've missed you and I was going through a lot of things. You were the last thought I had in a while and I came back. Began to read your blog all over again, you're my favortie artist. This just gave me the spark to write even a little. Its not that great and its iffy too. Still, I would want you to read it.
"A flood of tears and the loss of privileges to hide away.
Dirty tears and filthy water so knee high. It nearly drowns me.
Damaging everything, everything that’s left of me.
Breaking my grounds and pushing me away what I’ve always held on to,
my comfort zone.
I can feel it in my own flesh and bones.
Dirty and Filthy water working on its way up to my chin, I’ve got no where to go or swim up to its shore. I can’t stay too long. Or else I’d plan my own suicide.
I’m going to die from a drown of being sheltered too long.
I need to be freed, Guerrilla Libre please. help me."